Forever End
by Alerix Slynn
Summary: When a teammate is reverted to his five year old self, he isn't the only who suffers. KidFic. Whump. McKay fic.
1. The Beginning

Forever End

Chapter One

You could be my white night And I could be your fairy tale

He was aware of the constant rhythm of movement. The too tight arms wrapped around his body and the way his head lolled with each jolt on somebody's shoulder. He was tired, his limbs heavy and his eyes heavier. Each breath seemed to sap what little strength he was harboring until he was but a boneless mass.

He sucked in a icy breath of air and felt it stick in his chest.

And the cold, sinking deep into his skin and into his bones, he shivered violently, wanting to cry out against the onslaught but not having the energy. Instead, he whimpered.

There was the harsh breathing in his ear, the feel of rough material rubbing against his chest but the warmth of skin on his cheek. It smelled like something clean, like soap and rain. He snuggled into that warmth, burrowed into it so that he could hear a steady,

_Thump_

_Tha-thump_

_Thump_,

That he supposed was a heartbeat. He heard someone's breathing hitch.

~OO~

The smell of antiseptic roused him. Forced him to acknowledge the change of his surroundings. He didn't like it, he missed the warmth and familiarity of a voice he couldn't put a name to. Without those tight arms, he felt like he would fall apart. Tears burned at the back of his throat and filled his eyes.

Yet he did not try to open them. For some reason he thought that, if he did, he might see something terrible.

Something stung his arm and he felt a swirling numbness creeping up his arm and to his shoulder. He began to cry, he was scared, lonely. He didn't like it here, where the air felt strangely still and people spoke in hushed voices.

Unaware of the eyes watching him, he writhed beneath the oppressive feel of the drugs in his system and tried to speak. However, the words he managed to string together were only half formed and meant very little.

_Sheppard_, he could say without even trying, but, _Help_, seemed to get stuck in his throat.

~OO~

Sporadic sleep, waking to find himself once again wrapped in someone's arms and moving. However, it was a lazy, slow movement, round and round in circles. Not like before, when the air had seemed to rush by so quickly. And this time the arms seemed softer, thicker, and he was wrapped in something so soft and warm.

A hand was patting his back, and he hiccupped. Wheezing was his breathing, his lungs seemed incapable of drawing in a solid breath, and he would cough at times, so hard there would be panicked voices filling his ears and something cold would rest against his chest.

Time crawled. He still hadn't opened his eyes, he didn't really want to see anything, frightened as he was of the darkness, not knowing seemed better.

But then he found himself awake and oddly lucid and he did peer through his lashes. The room, large, round, hushed, had a warped perspective, like a bug's view of the world. He was alone, and he didn't like it. There was no one to hold him tight or rub his back, no one to hear him cough. Light shifted and wobbled above him.

Tears slid heedlessly down his cheeks, they blurred the room and he almost welcomed it. But he wanted to be not so alone. Something in his hand pulled, as if someone was pinching the skin. He sniffled as he yanked his hand away and held it close to his naked chest. He watched something red and warm well in the sore spot and ooze down his arm.

Shivering, wide eyes blinking owlishly at everything in the room, he spotted an indent in the wall, a door, and set his mind to go to it.

But it was hard to get off the bed, it was so high, he struggled to cling to the bed covers but he still slipped and fell hard to the ground. It hurt, his knees clicked awkwardly on the cold floor as sat, rubbing his newly bruised backside and clutching his bleeding hand to his chest.

Dazed, he pushed to his feet and staggered over to the door. But there was no handle, he could see no way to slide the door open or to push. His body began to shake in earnest, he was still so tired.

Looking up, he spied a strangely familiar panel sticking out of the wall, he jumped up and waved a hand over it, hearing the shush of the door opening gave him a sense of satisfaction as well as relief. He thought that it sounded familiar, and maybe that was a good thing.

Out of the room, it was colder, clad in only a pair of too long pants, he managed to waddle down the corridor, gazing wide-eyed at everything and anything. But still, there was no one there, no one to stop him from being alone.

~OO~

The transporters were only fun for a while, albeit a long while, being instantly teleported from one place to the next had a certain novelty that he found irresistible. But only until he realized he was well and truly lost. Every room and every hallways seemed to look the same and he couldn't even remember where he'd first come from.

Stepping out of the transporter for the hundredth time, he let an annoyed breath hiss through his teeth. And then he started coughing and didn't stop until a gobbet of something thick slid up his throat and he spat it on the ground.

His head was hot, but the rest of his body was cold, sweat tickled down the back of his neck and he shuddered

"Sheppard." He croaked, knowing the word was easy and smooth on his tongue, like sugar.

Wherever he was, it was light and he went to one of the windows to look out. He saw the ocean, the blue sky studded with little fluffy clouds and the warm sun parching any moisture from the air.

It scared him a little, that he seemed to be so fascinated by the sky, he never remembered being like this. What was wrong with him?

The prickle of fear ran over his skin, raising hairs and making his heart race.

"Sheppard?"

~OO~

He woke a long while later.

Curled weakly by the window, but shivering without the sun to keep him warm. The moon seemed to have swallowed up the light and stolen the blue from the sky, leaving only a deep black in its wake.

He sniffled and wiped a hand at his nose, his hand was shaking, when he looked at it. But he closed his eyes and drifted into an exhausted daze.

There were footsteps. They seemed to rock the world, like an earthquake, but he was only half listening, too tired to lift his head or take any notice.

~OO~

Listless. They pinched his arms and hand with more things, something hard and uncomfortable went under his nose, he heard the muted sounds of doors opening, something beeping, the scratch of pen on paper.

A hand, warm and solid and slightly clammy, ran down the side of his face softly. It smelled like antiseptic and something sickly sweet, but he leaned into willingly. He wasn't alone now, not with that hand touching his face.

They spoke with a bur, but for all he understood, they could have been speaking another language. The hand pulled away from his face and touched his forehead, smoothed the sweat-slicked locks of his hair away from his face and then pulled open his eyelids. The light hurt when it was flashed into his eyes, he blinked painfully but did not try to move. He felt so weak, so vulnerable that it scared him.

He started to cry, heavy, silent sobs that wracked his achy chest and filled his eyes until the tears spilled down his cheeks in a hot wave. He lifted a limp hand and swiped at his face. He wanted that hand to come back, wanted someone to make him not so alone.

"Sheppard?" He croaked.

But the soft reply was, "Carson."

~OO~

It was easier to cling onto _Carson_ than the elusive _Sheppard_.

Carson was always there, a figure who would talk to him in a low voice, he did not understand the words, but knew the tone to be comforting. Carson lulled him to sleep, woke him when he began to thrash in the throes of a nightmare and held him tight when he could not help but sob painfully as he remembered them.

And there was always the pain, always the weakness in his limbs that held him immobile. It scared him and often he would stare up at Carson, large eyes pleading, begging him to make the pain and the weakness and the cold go away. Carson could make the pain go away, but not the weakness or the cold, no matter how he was bundled up or cuddled tight. He was limp and shivering, for so long he simply _was_.

And then he slept for so long that not even Carson could save him from the nightmares.

~OO~

Wraith stalked him in the nightmares. They grinned at him with frightful sharp teeth and glittering eyes.

"_Food."_ They hissed and he stumbled back and tripped. The hand descended and he watched with horror as his life was sucked from his body, a scream silent on his lips.

~OO~

Everyone was dead in the nightmares. Pools of impossibly red blood widening around their still forms. He crouched beside them and stared into their faces. He recognized them, or rather, knew that he should have recognized them.

They meant something, but what that something was, was a mystery to him. He felt no repulsion as he curled up between the dead bodies and stayed there, eyes wide and sightless, until the dream ended.

~OO~

It was snowing in the nightmares. White dust shifting from the sky while he stumbled over the slow rise.

He made little distance slowly, hands tightening on the thick rope wrapped around his numb hands. He glanced back to make sure all the bodies were still attached to the rope and was pleased to see that they were.

He kept walking with the dead on the rope until he breasted the rise, and collapsed to his knees. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them, he saw that he was kneeling in a sea of blood and the bodies were floating around him, barely managing to keep their faces at the surface as they stared unblinkingly up at the sky.


	2. Epiphany

Forever End

Chapter Two

And you could come and save me But that is not the end

He was warm. For the first time in so long, Rodney felt warm and safe and not alone.

He could hear a sound, the loud noise of someone snoring in his ear. Rodney frowned, it was hard to sleep with that noise, it kept going and going and after a time he forced himself to peer through his lashes.

Carson was holding him, wrapped in a blanket and slumped against his chest. Rodney did not feel panicked, he felt utterly calm and secure. Raising his head from Carson's shoulder, Rodney peered into the Doctor's face. Sure enough the Doctor was snoring, his mouth hanging open slightly and his eyes firmly closed. He looked tired, there were dark smudges beneath his eyes and he appeared almost haggard.

"Carson?" Rodney whispered, he heard his voice, slightly squeaky and quavering.

Carson woke as soon as Rodney said his name. He stirred, eyes flickering open and when he saw that Rodney was awake and lucid, he let a soft smile blossom. Rodney echoed him with a hesitant smile of his own.

"I feel strange, Carson." He said. The Doctor's smile dimmed, somewhat.

He shifted so he could sit up straight, Rodney realized they were reclined on an infirmary chair, it must have been very comfortable for the Doctor, because from experience, Rodney knew you could wake up with you're neck bent at an impossible angle and have to deal with it for the rest of the week.

"Aye, lad, I know. You've been sick."

"But…I feel, different, what happened?" Rodney let a frown grace his brow but Carson rubbed a finger over his forehead, as if to wipe it away. Rodney did not tell him to stop.

"Do ye remember what happened on the planet?" Carson asked, he stood with Rodney balanced in his arms.

Rodney shook his head. "Am I supposed to?"

Carson sighed and moved over to the infirmary bed. "Aye, but maybe it will come back to ye later, there was an incident-"

Carson had been about to lower Rodney onto the bed but with a hysterical shriek, Rodney wrapped his arms around the man's neck and held on tightly.

"Don't let go! Please!" He could already feel the tears burning his throat.

Carson swerved away from the bed and rocked the boy gently, because that's was he was, a boy. He patted his back until he'd calmed down and then looked into his face.

"It's alright, lad, I won't leave ye alone."

Rodney sniffled. He wiped his hands over his face to try to clear the tears away. He supposed he should have felt foolish, embarrassed, that he was cuddled into another man's arms, and that he'd burst into tears right in front of him. But all Rodney could muster was a vague sort of desperation, a desperation to be safe. He knew he'd changed, drastically, but it felt like his mind was blocking something, trying to stop him from seeing the truth.

"How come I don't remember?"

He slumped in Carson's arms and let himself drift off for a while. He felt movement around him as Carson walked around the circular room, and patted his back after a while his head began to swim and the room felt too stuffy and hot.

"Carson," He mumbled into the doctor's shirt, "It's too hot."

The doctor paused for a moment and then murmured, "Better than being cold, ay, lad?" But he was moving toward the door, taking one hand away to wave over the console and then they were in the corridor.

Unlike last time he'd made it out of the room, the corridor was bustling with movement. People teemed in and out of rooms, some clad in bandages and others carrying heavy equipment. They stared at him curiously, as Carson carried him passed, but none of them made a move to speak to the teary-eyed child with a death grip around the Doctor's neck.

"What do I look like, Carson?" He asked when they turned a corner.

"You're a wee lad, Rodney, you look no more than five, I'd wager."

"And….and how long was I sick?"

They were out on the balcony now, the wind was warm but soothing as it caressed their skin and ruffled their hair. Rodney sat in his friend's arms for a long moment, before wriggling to signal that he wanted to be put down. Carson set him on the ground hesitantly.

He instantly wobbled, and it felt like the world was tipping to one side. But he managed to right himself and head over to the balcony ledge where he could see the long drop to the ocean but could still hold onto the wall.

In the light of day he could see himself clearly. Looking down at his body Rodney found his limbs and body small, thin, his ribs pressing against the delicate skin. There was a myriad of bruising flowing from his neck down to his belly button, like a band of butterflies marching their way to his innards. His toes were small and chubby, as were his fingers, Rodney sniffled and scratched at his tummy.

They stayed that way for a long time. Rodney unjustifiably fascinated by the crash of the waves against Atlantis and the way the sun was one by one ridding the sky of the clouds. He sat there with his eyes wide and didn't notice when the door opened behind him and several adults filed out onto the balcony.

"_McKay?"_ he looked up, startled, and felt a momentary squeeze of fear when he saw all the taller people surrounding him.

"Yes?" He squeaked.

The man closest to him was tall and it took more than a moment of staring to make him realize that it was Ronon. Next to him was Teyla, she gave him an encouraging smile and Rodney tried to send her one back but it appeared as more of a grimace. Weir was beside her, and then there was _him_.

Rodney stared at him hard, willing him to simply disappear like he had before. Besides, Rodney had Carson now, he didn't _need_ Sheppard. Rodney turned back to the ocean and hunched his shoulders, trying to ignore the people around him.

"Rodney, how are you feeling?" That was Weir, her voice was strained, and Rodney wondered whether she actually cared or just felt like she had to ask.

He didn't respond, choosing to keep his back turned.

"Hey, little man, talk to us." And that was Ronon, Rodney glanced sideways to find the hulk of a man crouching beside him, looking at him beneath furrowed brows. Rodney chanced a nervous look before whispering into Ronon's ear. He decided it was safe to trust this man, as large as he was, he did not feel like he would hurt him.

After listening to the fretful little whispers, Ronon raised his eyebrows and seemed to consider Rodney's words. He looked up at Sheppard.

"He says he wants you to go."

Sheppard looked taken back. He looked down at the small form that was now Rodney in question. "Really? Why?"

Rodney looked at him quickly. "Because you left before, and you have to leave now." He spat out angrily. He turned back to the ocean quickly, scooting away from Ronon and closer to Carson. Sheppard looked disappointed, guilty even, but Rodney did not see. Sheppard left the balcony without a backward glance.

~OO~

After Carson noticed Rodney's lagging energy, he scooped the boy up and carried him to the infirmary. But Rodney hated it there, it reminded him of pain and cold and being alone. He asked Carson if he could go to his own room, but the Doctor seemed uncertain.

"I don't want ye left alone, lad, I'm not a hundred percent on ye right now."

Rodney sighed. "Fine." He mumbled, sounding much like his old self.

"Ye shouldn't push the Colonel away, Rodney."

"I'm not."

"Ye are, and ye need to think about it. He was the one to bring ye from the machine, he found ye when ye were lost."

"Lost." Rodney muttered but said nothing else.

~OO~

Being in the infirmary at night, waking to find himself alone, trapped in silence. Rodney squirmed beneath the bed covers. He blinked into the darkness and pushed himself upright.

"Carson?"

He slipped from the bed and padded over to Carson's office, peering around the doorframe. Carson wasn't there, a young woman, a nurse, sat slumped over the desk, fast asleep. Rodney wanted to wake her, but he thought she might be mad.

He shivered in the cold and his stomach was rumbling. He was_ hungry_.

He could go down to the mess, surely it wasn't so late that it would be empty, there had to be food. His mind set, Rodney tottered from the room and found his way to the transporter, he beamed in a flash of white.

The mess wasn't empty, Rodney froze just outside the transporter, his feet stationary to the ground as a sudden wave on unease washed over him. They were there, Teyla and Ronon and Sheppard. _Sheppard._

Carson's words ran in his ears, _"He was the one to bring ye from the machine, he found ye when ye were lost."_

"Lost."

And hearing Rodney's little whispered word, Sheppard looked up. His expression softened when he caught sight of the boy staring wide-eyed back. Teyla and Ronon caught on quickly. They all gazed at him and he felt uncharacteristically shy.

Sheppard flicked his head. "Come on."

He said it so easily, so normally that Rodney went over to their table, but he hesitated before sitting. There was a spare seat either side of Sheppard and one beside Ronon. Feeling so uneasy, so wary, Rodney looked at his feet as his cheeks burned a bright red.

He climbed onto the seat beside Sheppard.

"How are you feeling, Rodney?" Teyla asked.

"Um, fine."

"You look cold." She added with a critical eye at the goosebumps rising along Rodney's bare arms and chest.

"Give him you're jacket." Ronon grunted to Sheppard, stuffing his face with some kind of cheesecake. Sheppard hesitated for a moment before shrugging off his jacket and holding it out to Rodney. The boy sat there, not moving, and eventually Sheppard had to drape it around his shoulders himself.

"Are you hungry?"

Rodney nodded.

Sheppard scooped an unopened Jell-o and plopped it down in front of Rodney. He looked at it for a moment. Then at Sheppard.

"Thank you."

The colonel looked baffled.

"For what?"

"For…for the Jell-o."

He tore off the lid and dug the spoon someone had just placed in his hand into the shiny goodness. Only when he mouth was full, bits of the blue Jell-o sticking to his cheeks and all over the table top, did he glance up to see the three adults watching him. He found a kind of amusement mirrored in their faces, he scowled. Or at least, he scrunched his face up.

"What?" He asked, spitting gobs of blue everywhere.

Sheppard was the first to wake from his stare, his smile was huge as he regarded Rodney, "You're just so darn cute, McKay."

"Excuse me?"

"You are a very attractive child, Rodney." Teyla interjected before Sheppard could blurt out how adorable the sight of Rodney's pudgy hands wrapped around the spoon were.

"Hmmph." He mumbled, and set down the now empty Jell-o container. He was still hungry.

Seemingly from thin air, Sheppard placed another Jell-o in front of him, this one green. Teyla gave Sheppard a stern look as the Kid Rodney dug into it. He shrugged.

"What? He likes Jell-o."

"Yeah." Rodney piped up, they looked at him and laughed. His lower face was slathered in Green and Blue, his eyes widened in unawares as he slowly pushed another loaded spoonful of Jell-o into his mouth.

"You've got…ah, you've got a little something on you're face." Sheppard intoned, barely suppressing the mirth that bubbled at his lips.

"Hunh?" Rodney swiped at his face but his child-like coordination made it a useless action.

"Here." Ronon tossed a napkin across the table. But Rodney just couldn't seem to wipe the goop off. He grew frustrated, his face turned beet red and he glared daggers at the taller three at the table.

"Stop laughing at me!" he shrieked.

They quieted but Ronon was still shaking with laughter. Sheppard grabbed the napkin from Rodney and began cleaning off his face. Rodney went still, and after a moment, so did Sheppard, realizing what he was doing. He dropped the napkin in Rodney's lap and leaned away.

"Sorry." He mumbled, and Rodney just sat there.

~OO~

"I swear, the Colonel just loves to make my job difficult." Carson complained when he'd seen Rodney, face still dirty.

The boy did not say a thing as the Doctor finished cleaning up his face, he was huddled in Sheppard's jacket, still shivering and with the taste of bile still on his tongue. He'd thrown up every cup of Jell-o his small stomach had been able to hold. Sheppard was nowhere to be seen. Vanished again. He'd slinked away as soon as Carson had come to the mess to retrieve his poorly patient, still in his pajamas.

"Five cups of Jell-o." Carson was saying in exasperated tone. "Nothing healthy at all."

"But they were blue, and green." Rodney said miserably.

The Doctor sighed. He patted the small shoulder and gave Rodney a cup of water before writing something on the charts at the end of the bed.

"I know, lad, but ye've got to be careful, ye just came out of a fever, ye're still very weak and I'm not sure ye system is ready to handle anything like that amount of Jell-o as of yet."

Rodney hung his head.

~OO~

The next day his team tried to catch him, but Rodney did not want to be seen. He hated the small body he was imprisoned in, even more so the lack of control he seemed to have over it. He'd tried typing on his laptop, but his small fingers had barely managed to find the right keys and his concentration had quickly lagged. He found that he thought the mundane interesting and that he could easily be amused by the color of the light reflected through Atlantis's tall windows and the sound of the waves crashing below.

He didn't eat, not wanting a repeat of the previous nights misadventures, but chose instead to glue himself to Carson. Following the Doctor as he made his rounds around the infirmary, Sheppard's jacket sleeves trailing on the ground behind him.

He didn't like people staring at him, whether their eyes held amusement or they gave him gooey smiles. It made him feel stupid, small, inferior.

"I hate it." He mumbled to Carson at one point, having just shrieked at a group of botanists who had come to gawk. They'd giggled all the way out of the infirmary, not at all intimidated by the small boy screaming until his face went red and he waved his hands around madly.

They days went in a haze of white and cool grey. He was Carson's shadow, clinging to his lab coat until he began to tire. The Doctor noticed and scooped him up, ignoring the soft coo of the woman who'd burnt her hand and was getting it bandaged. Rodney buried his face into Carson's neck so he wouldn't have to see her watching him. He hated it.

He was glad for Carson, his friend knew what he was thinking without having to voice it. He patted Rodney's back when he woke from the nightmares, but didn't press him to retell them. He let him have some Jell-o, but not much, enough that Rodney would smile, but not so much he would be losing it later.

But the Doctor also noticed that Rodney began to withdraw. He was angry and sullen at times, silent and pinched at the others. He would stare out the window for hours and refuse to acknowledge anyone but Carson himself if he was addressed.

People began to worry.

But no one except Rodney knew what was going on in his mind, it scared him. He felt different, not only on the outside but inside as well, in his mind. Carson suggested that he talk to Heightenmeyer about how he was feeling after one of his quiet spells. The suggestion might as well have fallen on deaf ears, the reaction was so minimal, only a slight nod and a little grimace in response.

He tried to remember numbers, the harder ones slipped his grasp at first, and then the bigger ones. He couldn't even remember Pi.

It wasn't long before he knew what was happening, he cried when he finally figured it out. It wasn't only his body that had reverted to five-year-old state.


	3. Left Out

Forever End

Chapter Three

I will wear a white dress You will paint a sunset

**8 days earlier….**

"What are you doing?"

McKay flinched at the harsh tone, but rolled his eyes.

"I have to turn it on,_ Colonel, _if we're to know what it actually does. Or would you rather we begin fiddling with it without any idea, perhaps we could take it home, show it to Carson and see if he'd like to have a play, hmm? No, I didn't think so."

Sheppard grunted. He saw McKay's finger hovering over the panel, tried to reach him and stop the motion, but he was doing it, was but a hairsbreadth from doing it. And couldn't be stopped.

"MCKAY." Sheppard growled, both Ronon and Teyla turned to see what wrong. Ronon had slipped his gun from stun to kill, but there was no enemy to shoot. The control panel lit up like a Christmas tree, McKay turned to them with an arrogant smile, he spread his hands to encompass the room, which was slowly, but surely blinking to life.

"See, Colonel, I know what I'm doing."

Sheppard was next to him in a heartbeat, his pulse racing, he was beginning to feel stupid for being so worried. It was an anti-climax, he'd expected something to blow up, perhaps an alarm of sorts. He should have known better than to worry about McKay and technology. He didn't tell McKay that, of course.

"I told you to stop, McKay. _Stop."_ He knew he was being too harsh, but couldn't seem to stop. He'd been growing steadily frustrated with how insubordinate, not that he liked that term, McKay had been getting of late.

McKay's smile fell and he looked suddenly unsure, anxious.

"But…I know what I'm doing."

"Do you? Or do you just _think_ you know what you're doing?"

He tapped a finger to McKay's temple, the other man swatted it away. Sheppard saw that his teammates hands were shaking, he'd never reprimanded the man, had always had more control when it came to the scientist.

"I…I know."

"Really? Because I'm beginning to think that you just say that. That you pretend to know to make yourself look better."

McKay's shoulders hunched, he wrung his hands nervously and his eyes darted from Sheppard to where Ronon and Teyla stood, they did not look amused, either. Then he seemed to think of something, he drew himself up to his full height and puffed out his chest.

"I know what I'm doing."

Sheppard turned and stalked across the room.

"Then go ahead." Sheppard said, sounding neither angry nor pleasant. He heard McKay utter a little, "Fine." Before the room lit up with a loud hum. He spun to glare at McKay, about to reprove him for using the precious power of the ZPM they had yet to locate.

But the growl died on his lips when he saw McKay's expression. Fear. Knowledge.

The panel beneath his feet was glowing a pale red, stark in contrast to the pale blue hues and whites around them. McKay did not move. The strange humming in the room grew louder and Sheppard realized then that it was powering up. Whatever _it_ was.

"Move." He tried to shout but it came out as a whisper. Pleading. "Move."

He didn't.

The red light that snaked up McKay's legs must have hurt, the man screamed in agony Sheppard had to grit his teeth not to join him. He took a few steps forward but it felt as though something was pushing him back, trying to keep him from helping his friend.

McKay fell silent when the red tendrils had reached his neck, his mouth opened wide in a soundless plea, but no one could help him. When the red light reached the top of his head, it grew to enclose him, his body writhed, twisting and jerking, wanting to be free.

And then he fell.

Sheppard stumbled when the pressure pushing against him fell away, he ran to McKay without a second thought, reaching through the red light to grasp McKay's shoulder. He let out a hiss when he felt the skin moving beneath his fingers, slimming down, narrowing even as he pulled the still body out of the light.

As soon as Sheppard wrapped his arms around McKay and they stood away from the red glow, it faded. A strange little bell sound filled the room, as if signaling that something was complete.

"Crap."

Sheppard cursed as he clutched the strangely slim form to his chest. He looked at Teyla and Ronon with dread coursing through his veins. They shared his shock.

~OO~

They left the Ancient lab then, Ronon and Teyla taking the lead so that they could dial Atlantis and radio Beckett. Sheppard had wrapped the listless child-McKay in the vestiges of his ashen clothes and hugged him to his chest. Guilt and anxiety fought for reign and he couldn't stop himself from tightening his arms around McKay.

He ran through the forest, leaping over the brush so quickly he wondered whether he would soon trip and fall, ending them both. But he pushed the thought aside and paid keen attention to the head lolling to and fro on his shoulder.

He heard a little sniffle and a muttered word and then the child McKay's small, feverishly hot face pressed into his neck. Sheppard's breath hitched in his throat and his eyes burned.

"I'm sorry, McKay."

~OO~

"Do you want your laptop?"

"No."

"How about we play a game."

"No, thank you."

"Why not?"

Rodney's gaze slid up to stare at her face, the young nurse was watching him with an adoring expression. He wanted to slap it from her face, but knew his small hands were not up to the task.

It had been a week. A whole week trapped in a small body, feeling his mind slipping further down into nothingness. He hated that he enjoyed the mundane, hated that they treated him as if he really was a kid. But, he reasoned silently, he couldn't help but act like a kid. He found it easy to ask questions he had not the guts to ask as an adult, he was not ashamed to fall asleep in Carson's arms not to wake crying from nightmares. But he hated the looks.

"Why, with all the people in Atlantis, on this world, in this galaxy _and_ the next, would I willingly want to play a stupid, boring game with you?"

He said it crisply, slowly, he'd found he had trouble pronouncing some words and often got tongue tied.

The nurse looked suitably hurt, and Rodney just couldn't bring himself to care. He flicked a hand at her, and she left.

Sitting on the infirmary bed, Rodney wondered where Carson was. He'd woken up with the creepy pinch-your-chubby-cheeks nurse hanging over him. With a grumpy sigh he slipped off the bed and padded over to the door.

"Doctor McKay, what are you doing?" That was Biro, she stood hands on hips at the other side of the infirmary. Rodney glowered at her.

"Nothing that you need to worry about."

"Doctor-"

"I'M NOT DOCTOR MCKAY ANYMORE, I'M RODNEY. _Just _Rodney."

~OO~

After wandering aimlessly through Atlantis, trying to ignore the stares he got, Rodney had to stop and lean against the wall. He felt out of breath and his muscles were aching from over exhaustion.

He wondered at the limitations of this body, surely he couldn't be tired yet, he'd barely done anything at all! Carson had said he'd be weak for a while, but he hadn't truly believed him. He wished he could find Carson, now.

"McKay?" His head snapped up at the familiar voice. It was Lorne, accompanied by several of his motley crew and all dressed in their sparring gear. "You need some help?" "Don't talk to me like that." Rodney admonished, though it had no effect. The men behind Lorne guffawed, Rodney felt his face turn pink, he looked at his feet. The sleeves of Sheppard's jacket were dusty where they'd been trailing on the ground.

"Go ahead, guys, I'll meet you there."

Their footsteps faded and Rodney looked up at Lorne. He had never disliked the man, had a certain amount of respect that he suspected was Sheppard's fault. Rodney generally followed Sheppard's lead when it came to people, and he had spoken highly of Lorne on more than one occasion.

Rodney sat on the floor with a little thump. After a hesitant pause, Lorne moved to sit beside him. He stank of sweat and Rodney wrinkled his nose.

"You stink."

Lorne laughed, "It's called Manly-ness, McKay."

"Not McKay."

Lorne had to lean in to hear the soft words. He frowned.

"What?"

"Not McKay. Rodney."

For a moment, Lorne was silent. He studied the small boy before him, he knew McKay was trapped in that body, had read the reports and heard it by word of mouth. But it was still hard to believe. This boy beside him was too small, wearing the Colonel's jacket he looked tiny. His cheeks were round where his stomach was hollow. Lorne could see that Rodney must have looked like this when he'd been five…the first time. He still had the same blue eyes and soft, auburn hair.

"You _are _McKay, you just look a little different." Lorne said.

He had to admit, this kid McKay was pretty cute.

"I don't think so." Rodney replied, his eyes were large, sad.

"Yeah," He thought of something. "Come on, I hear there's an important meeting going on, we should go take a peek."

Lorne stood, he didn't try to help Rodney up and for that the boy was glad, he didn't want them to treat him differently. Even if he felt it.

"How come _I_ didn't hear about it?" Beginning to think that everyone was hiding something from him. Perhaps they didn't want him to know anything, maybe they thought him a security risk or maybe….

Lorne shrugged. "Have you been wearing your 'com?"

Rodney shuffled a little, face reddening.

"No."

"S'pose you're feelin' a bit out of the loop, then?"

"Yes, they don't want me to know things." He said, although his didn't precisely know what sort of things they would hide from him.

"Really?"

Rodney nodded, he would meet Lorne's gaze.

"Maybe they're letting you get better first, waiting for you to get back to your old self."

As soon as the words left Lorne's mouth he knew he'd said the wrong thing, he watched with apprehension as the boy's face went from pink to red. His lips pursed and he blew a puff of air through his nose, seeming to deflate. Lorne was kind of disappointed, he'd been hoping for a full blown McKay-explosion.

"I'll be like this forever." He whispered, eyes sinking down to stare at his bare feet. "If they haven't found a way to reverse this by now, what chance have they got? I hate being like this."

Lorne watched the small boy shiver, and leaned forward to wrap the colonel's jacket more firmly around his quivering body. "They won't stop trying, McKay. If there's anything I've learnt from being a part of this expedition, it is that Colonel Sheppard with never stop until he gets what he wants."

"So?" The sad, sullen little word made Lorne sigh.

"So, the Colonel wants to help you, he wants you to be the way you were, wants things to be normal."

"So he hates me like this?" It was a child's way of trying to find answers, a way of coping. Rodney couldn't seem to wrap his mind around it, he was still wary of Sheppard, was wary of Lorne, even. He trusted Carson. Only Carson.

~OO~

They were all seated when Lorne led Rodney into the meeting, all eyes homing in on the small figure shuffling in, wrapped in Sheppard's jacket.

Sheppard's mouth wrinkled around the edges but otherwise showed no emotion. He was wearing his usual black shirt, no jacket. Rodney glared up at everyone, but his eyes grew large and dewy when he saw Carson.

The Doctor seemed to be housing an internal battle, he clearly wanted to get up and go to Rodney, but he did not want to embarrass anyone. But Rodney, being a child, took this as abandonment. His shoulder sank and he stared at the floor.

Lorne thumped his lightly on the shoulder, a small smile in his voice as he regarded Weir.

"We were feeling left out, I don't suppose you'd mind two more at this meeting?"

Weir, unable to suppress a smile, nodded, "Of course."

Lorne pushed Rodney slightly forward before slipping into a spare seat. Rodney glanced around the room, there were two spare seats, one between Carson and Ronon and the other between Sheppard and Zelenka. And Rodney, feeling somewhat irresolute, sat close to Zelenka. The small man blinked in surprise but did not comment. Rodney did not see the hurt look on Carson's face.

They continued with the meeting, Rodney, even having complained about being left out, did not pay attention. He found he was fascinated by the way Zelenka's fingers hurried over the keys on his tablet. Cocking his head to see the letters dance across the screen, he leaned in closer, but Zelenka seemed to be leaning away, closer to where Weir was speaking.

With an impatient huff he scooted closer on his chair, but found no more chair to scoot. He fell with a high pitched yelp and landed heavily on the floor.

Sheppard was there first beside him, drawing him upright by his arm pits, Carson and Teyla were both out of their seats, but didn't move closer.

"I'm fine..I'm_ fine_." Rodney said forcibly. He whipped the sleeves of the jacket through the air, waving the man's hands away.

The room was silent for a moment, watching Rodney clamber onto his chair. The meeting resumed once more, but this time, when Rodney tried to peer at Zelenka's tablet, the little man pulled Rodney's chair closer.


	4. Lemon Kid

Forever End

Chapter Four

Life will be a love fest That's how it all begins

"You don't have any idea, do you?" Rodney asked Zelenka the next day.

He could see the truth in the small man's eyes, even as he worked, reading through the information taken from the device that had changed him. It rolled down the screen in a pale red wave, symbol after symbol. Rodney kept quiet about the fact that he couldn't understand a single character. He sat back dejectedly in his chair.

"Do not worry, Rodney, we will figure this out." Zelenka muttered and got back to work. But Rodney knew it was pointless.

"I know you're going to try your best, Radek, but you need to face the-"

"Rodney, we will fix this."

There was an awkward pause, Rodney looked away.

"I'm hungry," He said, wanting to give his friend a break. "Can you come with me to the mess?"

Zelenka blinked in surprise, but if there was one positive thing about being in the body of a child, it was that people tended to do what he asked, as if they couldn't say no. Zelenka nodded and pushed his glasses up his nose. He said something that Rodney didn't understand to a woman bending over some Ancient device and she nodded in turn.

Rodney struggled from the chair and followed Zelenka from the lab.

They walked in silence for a while, moving at an easy pace so Rodney could keep up. He glared at those who they passed, but he knew they would stare anyway. A group of armed marines strode quickly passed and Rodney could not help but grasp Zelenka's sleeve as a wave of uneasiness passed through him. He didn't like the guns, they were big and dark and dangerous, they could kill. One of the marines shot him a feral smile and Rodney shrank against Zelenka, almost stumbling over his own feet.

"Are you alright, Rodney?" His friend asked worriedly and Rodney blushed a bright pink.

"Yes, yes. I… I'm just tired. And hungry." He added after a moment. He'd found it hard to lie, since becoming a kid, he couldn't hide the blush nor that guilt at twisting the truth as he used to. He didn't like it.

There were many things he didn't like.

The mess was not empty when they arrived, it was filled with the usual lunchtime bustle, laughter and chatter washed over him, reminding him of the old days, when he would sit with his team and they would debate and argue and laugh and have fun. Rodney missed having fun.

"What do you want, Rodney?" Zelenka asked, eyeing the array of food with interest. And suddenly Rodney was glad that he'd made the man come down with him, he'd no doubt been working through meals and sleep, guilt wormed its way through his mind.

He shrugged at Zelenka's question. "Whatever you think, Radek." He mumbled staying close to him as he gazed around the room.

Zelenka filled their trays and stood holding them as he scoped the mess for a spare table. "Where do you want to sit, Rodney?" He asked after a moment, and Rodney thought.

They could sit with the scientists, who were barely paying attention to their food as their fingers hovered over the keys of their tablets. There were the marines, loud and boisterous, the botonists with their gooey-eyed looks and last of all, there was_ his_ table. Or what had been his table.

It was occupied by Sheppard, Ronon and Teyla, they sat quietly but confidently. Safe in the knowledge that they were one and whole. Rodney faltered. But Zelenka, taking his stare for a decision, moved over to their table and set their trays down.

"Do you mind?" He asked quietly before sitting, the three adults paused their conversation to say that no, they did not mind at all, they said it with little, knowing smiles. Rodney watched them from afar, he had not moved a step.

Zelenka sat down, realized Rodney was not with him, and looked around. His gaze settled on the boy, the boy who stood twisting the sleeves of Sheppard's jacket nervously in his small fingers and who's mouth kept twitching as if he wanted to say something but wasn't quiet sure.

He motioned for Rodney to come, and the boy did, albeit reluctantly.

"How are you today, Rodney?" Teyla asked when he'd settled into the seat next to Zelenka.

"Fine." He muttered. It was a lie. He'd slept badly, not having Carson around him had led to a fitful slumber, as if the Doctor had so far staved off the worst of the nightmares and fears. He missed Carson, and to be honest he didn't know why he didn't go back to him. Something about being alone…

"You'd better eat up, Little man, you look hollow." Ronon grunted from across the table where he was tucking into his own food. Sheppard simply watched him, chewing slowly on a piece of brownie. Rodney wanted that brownie.

The four adults fell into a friendly banter about the positives and negatives of a trading relationship with an off-world city. They'd so far been able to trade for large amount of much needed food, but the partners were growing too big for their britches, demanding more and more in return each time they went back.

"Bugger them," Rodney said through a mouthful of mashed potato. "They don't appreciate what we're doing for them, then I say bugger the lot of them."

Silence met his remark and he feared he'd made some sort of mistake, or that he shouldn't have commented. But Ronon grinned wolfishly and Teyla hid a smile behind her hand. It was so like Rodney, they were all thinking.

Rodney moved from his potatoes to the chicken, cramming his mouth full so he wouldn't make an idiot out of himself again. He thought it tasted weird but did not voice this thought.

The mess began to sift of his occupants, the scientists went first, tablets in hand, and then the botanists, closely followed by the loudly guffawing marines. Rodney turned to his table.

"Don't you need to get back to work?" He asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He was feeling really hot, and unzipped the front of Sheppard's jacket to let in some air.

Sheppard shook his head lazily. "Got a week off." He said.

Zelenka muttered an apology and zoomed off, giving Rodney no time to question his departure. He assumed something needed fixing. Rodney used to fix things.

_Not anymore,_ his mind whispered.

"Really? What are you going to do?" Rodney asked, ignoring the voice until it faded. His throat was feeling funny, tight maybe. Or itchy.

Sheppard shrugged. "Was thinking of going to the mainland, might go surfing, Beckett mentioned fishing so I assume he's in. What about you, Teyla? Want to come?"

Teyla smiled, eyes sparkling, "Of course, John, I would love to."

"What about you, big guy?"

Ronon grunted his agreement.

"Awesome, so all we need is our little scientist."

Rodney nodded distractedly, kicking his bare feet through the air, his tummy was beginning to feel achy, as if he'd eaten too much. But he'd barely eaten anything at all.

He left the chicken and went for the sweet cake he had no name for. It tasted nice and he hoped it would get rid of the sour taste suddenly filling his mouth. It really was hot inside, he rubbed one hand over his face and found himself clammy and sweating. He was getting a bad feeling.

He put the rest of the sweet cake back on the tray and looked over at Ronon, fascinated by how much the man seemed to be able to eat, as if he were a bottomless pit.

"Great, so what about this weekend? We'll take the jumper and go on a little holiday down to the mainland, have some fun, get drunk on that great Athosian booze and take a swim. That sound good to you, Rodney?"

Sheppard was speaking, but Rodney wasn't paying attention. He stared fixedly at his tray, wondering what was making him feel sick, his hands began to prickle. He flexed them.

"Rodney?"

"What?" He looked up and tried to smile, Sheppard was watching him.

"You okay?"

"_Yes_. I am, can everyone stop asking me that?" Rodney snapped weakly, he used his grumpiness as an excuse to escape, hopping down from his chair and hurrying on wobbly legs to the transporter, Teyla, Ronon and Sheppard watched him go, each looking worried.

~OO~

"Carson?" Rodney was murmuring as he wove through the maze of hallways.

He wasn't exactly sure where he was going, or where he was, all he knew what the he needed and wanted Carson.

"Carson?"

Carson was safety. Carson took away the pain and made everything normal and quiet.

He drew in another breath and it got stuck in his throat. Panicking now, Rodney began to move faster, his chest struggled as his throat tightened, letting only shivers of air pass through.

"Carson!" he called. It was but a wheezy little cough, the sound a dying dog makes. Rodney blinked rapidly to clear the tears from his eyes.

And then he stopped, he'd brought himself face to face with an unfamiliar door, it was closed, and he wasn't sure whether he could reach the panel. But the little bell signaled that he had, the door opened with a soft whoosh, and Rodney stumbled inside. Calling out weakly to who ever was inside.

No one answered. The room was empty. And he realized dimly, that it was his room.

He went to his bed, intending to collapse onto it, when his eyes caught on something, his 'com. Right there, within reach. His hand snaked out and he wrapped his small fingers around it.

He pressed it to his ear and fumbled for a moment, forgetting how to use it for a second. The dull static told him that he'd managed, however, and a small amount of relief pushed back the tide of panic.

"Carson." He whispered, hoping the doctor was listening. "Carson?"

There was a moment of static silence; Rodney heaved himself onto his bed, arms trembling with the effort. The pillow was soft beneath his cheek, and his eyes slid closed.

He heard a voice, it was distant, but he heard it and replied just as softly.

"I don't feel well." He said. There was a reply, but he didn't hear it.

~OO~

When he opened his eyes, there were too many people around him, staring at him, speaking in fuzzy voices. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and willed them away, but they didn't moved.

"Carson?" He cried out, blearily trying to make the figures around him come into focus. His voice turned pleading. "_Carson?"_

Someone, not Carson, _Sheppard_, leaned forward and placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Hey, steady, McKay, you're alright."

Rodney shrugged off Sheppard's hand and struggled into a sitting position. His head felt heavy and fuzzy, full of sleepiness. He lifted a hand to rub his eyes but there was a sharp sing at the back of his hand and he grimaced at the IV.

He looked around, he could see them now, Weir, Sheppard, Teyla, Ronon, Zelenka and Lorne. He wondered what Lorne was doing there, but wasn't feeling up to asking. He was so tired, his limbs felt leaden and there was a sharp ache in his throat and chest. He cough roughly.

"Rodney! Lad, you're awake!" As soon as he heard the Doctor's voice, he felt a swell of relief. He looked over to see Carson approaching and suddenly felt tears burning his eyes.

Carson's smile fell. But when he got within touching distance, Rodney sprang forward and wrapped his arms around his friend.

There was a watery chuckle before Carson managed to wrap his arms around the boy's small, shuddering frame. The others in the room exchanged brief smiles, it was rare that the adult Rodney showed affection, but the kid Rodney did not seem to hold such qualms.

"I was scared." Rodney sobbed into Carson's shoulder, his tears soaking through the doctor's shirt. Carson shushed him and rubbed his back in a continuous circle. "I thought you were gone."

"Nay, lad, I wasn't gone."

"Will you stay with me, now?"

"Aye, lad."

Rodney sniffled, but did not pull back. He did not see the look on Sheppard's face, did not see the Colonel motion to Weir and them both move outside the infirmary. The others exchanged a worried glance.

"But I need to take a look at ye, lad, can ye sit down for a moment?" Carson asked softly and Rodney nodded. He sat back on the bed, looking sleepily around at the others in the room. He noticed that Sheppard was gone, but chose not to comment.

"I'm tired. What happened?" Rodney asked with a little frown.

Zelenka spoke up, after a moment. "It was my fault, Rodney."

The Doctor clucked and Rodney simply shook his head at Zelenka. "Ye had an allergic reaction, to lemon, no less. It was lucky the major here was close by and heard ye're call." He nodded his head at Lorne, who gave them a pleasant smile.

"Thanks." Rodney mumbled, barely awake, and Lorne's smile widened.

"No probs, McKay." He said.

~OO~

When he woke next, Sheppard was asleep in the chair by his bed. He could hear Carson typing in his office and leaned forward to see him, feeling calmer once he had. He turned back to the Colonel.

He was sitting sprawled in the uncomfortable infirmary chair, a blanket draped over his shoulders to keep him warm. His spikey black hair was mussed, more so than usual, and his breathing was even and deep.

Just watching him made Rodney yawn.

Leaning over the railing of the bed, he tapped Sheppard's knee through the blanket. Watching curiously as the Colonel shifted in the chair, twitched his nose, and then opened his eyes. He smiled sleepily when he caught sight of Rodney watching him.

"Sleepy head." Rodney laughed when Sheppard yawned, reminding him of a lion.

But his laugh faded when he saw the Colonel's expression. He looked sad.

"What's the matter?"

"I need to talk to you."

Rodney frowned. "About what?" He was beginning to feel restless, he fidgeting beneath the bedcovers and looked around the infirmary.

"How are you feeling?"

"I wish-"

"No, Rodney, how are you feeling? Inside, do you feel like you did before, or do you feel different?" Sheppard was unusually serious.

"I don't understand." Rodney whispered, but he was fearing he did. Sheppard was asking about his mind. Which was falling away like the sand in an hourglass. He didn't want to tell Sheppard, but he knew they would find out eventually.

"McKay?" the gentle push made him turn away, made him want to hide the tears blurring his vision. He closed his eyes and shivered.

"I feel different."

He heard a sigh and turned to look at Sheppard. The man ran both his hands down his face. He let them drop onto his knees and stared at Rodney. He noticed the boy shivering and pulled the blanket off himself. It was already warm and Rodney snuggled into it, wiping the overflowing tears.

"I feel like I'm losing myself." Rodney choked out.

He felt the bed dip, a hesitant pause, and then Sheppard laid a gentle arm around his shoulders in a hug. Rodney turned toward him and wrapped his hands around the man's waist, hugging him tightly, as if he would disappear.

"It's okay, McKay. It will be good, soon."

"No, it won't." Rodney sobbed.

"Yes, it will, I promise."

"No! You can't promise that! Please, don't promise that." His sobs rose and before he realized it, he was full out crying, unable to stop the hysterical little wails that left his lips. He heard hurried footsteps but didn't turn.

"I'm going to be like this forever, and who everyone already hated will resent me and I don't want to be like this and I don't think I can and I want you to promise me not to promise anything and I want _Carson_!"

Soft arms scooped him up, held him tightly around that familiar chest. He sank into Carson but could not seem to stop crying. He heard them speaking, heard a sigh and then a frustrated little growl. He worried that he'd done something wrong and forced his wails down to whimpers. He wrapped his short arms around Carson's neck.

"I'm sorry, Carson." He bawled.

"What for, lad?" The Doctor asked, sounding surprised.

"I left you alone and I don't know why."

"Aye, its fine, lad."

"Really?"

"Really."


	5. Blue Starfish!

Forever End

Chapter Five

Say, Say, oh playmate Come out and play with me

"He's withdrawing."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, as I suspected, and from what you confirmed, his mental state is returning to that of a five year old child. I can clearly see by his actions that he already thinks and most of the time acts like a child, but it's the memories that I am worried about."

"Are you saying that he'll forget us?"

"Forget? No, but possibly…possibly his perception on his relationships with the people around him will change. As it has for Dr. Beckett."

"Aye, the lad has taken to me."

"Yes, I believe this is because he sees you as a father figure, you are his protector, his role model but also his friend. He trusts you more than anyone else here."

"And what about me? He was scared of me, earlier."

"Nay, Colonel, he wasn't scared of ye, he was simply hurt, and he thought ye'd left him."

"Left him?"

"Aye, because ye didn't like him the way he was."

"Fuck."

"Colonel, please. But I do agree with you Dr. Beckett, he saw the Colonel as intangible, as someone who, in a moment of fear and hurt, he could not hold onto. But I see that's changed, has it not? He looks to you as a friend and protector?"

"Yeah, I s'pose."

"It is all about trust, Colonel."

"I get it, I get it. We were going to go to the mainland for a little holiday, do you think that's still alright?"

"Of course, Colonel! It would be good for him to get out of the city, and to take his mind off things around here."

"How long do we think it will take to get him back to normal."

"Colonel…"

"It would be prudent to refrain from calling it normal, it is best to act as if there is nothing wrong with him, talk to him as both a friend and as the adult. I believe that if the world around him is saying that he isn't normal, and that he isn't right, then he will believe it too."

"But-"

"I am aware of the circumstances, Colonel, but you need to see this from Rodney's point of view. Even in the short time he has been a child, he won't let anyone call him Doctor, or McKay, he prefers Rodney and only Rodney. He knows he's mind is reverting, and he is scared, just act as you always have and keep him happy."

"Zelenka isn't making any progress."

"I know, give him time."

"Rodney could figure it out."

"Not anymore."

The paper was ripped to pieces in Rodney's pudgy hands. He let out a little growl of frustration and threw the pencil across the table. Rubbing a hand over his pounding forehead, he stared out through the glass walls of Weir's office and at the Stargate. It was so _big. _To him it looked magical.

He could still hear the adults talking, and wondered why they thought he couldn't hear them. Stupid, were they _stupid _or something?

"It would have been his birthday in a few weeks."

"It still is Colonel."

"Yeah, but he's five."

"It doesn't matter, Colonel, throw him a party, make it happy and bright and ordinary and keep him from thinking about this situation altogether."

"Aye, that is a good idea."

"I've got to go, I have an appointment scheduled. I will see you all soon Dr. Weir, Dr. Beckett, Colonel."

"Thank you, Kate."

"It's my job."

There was the sound of fading footsteps and the awkward little scuffle as the three left behind moved back into the seats they'd vacated around Rodney. Only when they'd sat sound and gotten comfortable did he look up.

Weir picked up her tea and took a sip, he noted the little grimace she gave and guessed that it was cold. Sheppard sat stiffly, like he was ready to up and run at any moment, and Carson sat beside him, a familiar breath of warmth that eased the tension running through his back.

"What are you getting me for my birthday?" Rodney asked caustically, liking the way it sounded in his kid voice. He saw them all freeze.

"It's not nice to eavesdrop, McK-Rodney." Sheppard said.

Rodney shrugged. He picked up Weir's pen and began doodling on one of her notepads so he wouldn't have to look at them. He drew several lines and then two circles.

"Well, it's not very nice to talk about people behind their backs when you don't think they're listening."

Rodney sniffed derisively.

"True." Sheppard mused softly. He leaned forward and looked at Rodney's drawing, bestowing a big smile upon him. "Geez, Rodney, you're pretty neat with the pen."

Rodney cocked his head at the drawing, feeling himself smile. Pride blossomed in his chest at the praise. "Really?"

"Yeah! Don't you think Carson, Elizabeth?"

"Of course, lad, but I never remembered ye being this artistic before."

The Doctor grimaced at his choice of words, but Rodney neither noticed nor cared. He scribbled some more on the drawing and sat back, triumphant that he'd finished it.

"You'll have to draw me one, Rodney." Sheppard added after a moment and Rodney flapped the drawing at him.

"Have this one!" Rodney exclaimed happily.

Sheppard took the drawing with a smile, studied it for a moment and then looked back at Rodney.

"You packed for this weekend?"

Rodney shook his head, wrinkled his nose, and looked down. He was still wearing the Colonel's jacket, having nothing else that would fit him. "What would I pack, I have nothing."

Sheppard frowned but Carson saved the day by jumping in.

"I'm sure the Athosians will have something for ye to wear, Rodney, we'll go visit them while we're there. But for now, I think its time to get back to infirmary."

"Why?" Rodney asked.

"I need to run some more tests before we go, to make sure your body is coping." Carson said. Rodney wrinkled his nose at the mention of tests but let Carson scoop his up without complaint. Both Weir and Sheppard sighed, looking at each other as the Doctor carried the young boy out, they heard him asking if they could go swimming, and build sand castles, and eat ice-cream. Carson laughed and asked where they would get the ice-cream from. Rodney pondered silently.

~OO~

That weekend, Rodney sat on Carson's bed as the Doctor packed things into his suitcase. He'd shoved the notepad and pen Weir had given him into the Doctor's backpack and was swinging his legs over the edge of the bed as he tried to sit still. He was excited, he hadn't been to swim on the mainland before.

"Lad, could you grab my toothbrush for me?" Carson asked as he tried to close the zip of the suitcase.

Rodney leapt off the bed and darted into the bathroom, he grabbed the blue toothbrush and also the toothpaste before hurrying back. He plopped them in Carson's backpack being tugging at his sleeve.

"Are you done yet? Can we go now? Why are you taking so long?"

Carson shifted the toothbrush and paste from his backpack to the pocket of his suitcase, smiling at the boy's enthusiasm. He'd only even seen McKay this excited when he stumbled upon a piece of ancient technology and was silently glad that the lad was happy again.

Unfortunately, that happiness came with a price, he knew that the Rodney he had known was disappearing, being replaced by his child self. He wondered if the lad even remembered what it was like to be grown up.

He pushed the thought away.

~OO~

They were settled in the jumper, Carson looking a little pale as he clutched the edge of the seat, but Rodney was bouncing around, asking Ronon if he was going to go swimming with him and if Sheppard would go surfing, he wanted to watch him surf.

They laughed and nodded, Sheppard was piloting the Jumper but he managed to lean back and ruffle Rodney's hair. Teyla tossed a genuine smile to Carson who returned it, amused by the boy's actions.

The sky was clear, but the air still chilly, Rodney leaned over the console to see the sun, it looked huge in the sky and asked why, if the sun was so big, the cold was still allowed to be cold.

There was silence in the Jumper. Rodney looked at them with a little frown, wondering why they suddenly looked grim and a little sad. And then he realized that the other Rodney wouldn't have asked such a thing, that the other Rodney was smarted than he was.

Feeling somewhat guilty and more than a little depressed, Rodney pushed away from the console and went to sit with Carson, wrapping one of his small hands around the man's hand.

The other Rodney was dead, he thought silently.

~OO~

"We're here!" Sheppard declared with a little flourish, he set the Jumper down and opened the back hatch. They began rounding up their packs and set out toward the Athosian settlement.

Rodney hung back with Carson, holding onto the Doctor's elbow as he navigated over the rocks and dirt, bare feet starkly pale against the ground.

"Do you think its going to be sunny the whole weekend?" He asked Carson. The Doctor shrugged good naturedly, closing the Jumper hatch behind him as they followed the others.

"Looks like it."

"Good. I like the sun."

"Me too, Lad, me too."

They caught up to the others where Teyla was greeting the Athosians with a bright smile, Rodney stood a little behind Carson as he observed her. She moved her arms through the air, as if that too was a part of their language, along with speaking. It was fascinating.

At last Teyla turned back to them and the Athosians went back to their business, the gentle buzz of work and play was oddly relaxing.

"They have given is a tent for the duration of our stay, and I would like to invite you to the coming summer celebration." Teyla informed them, oddly formal. Sheppard accepted easily, and Ronon nodded, they moved into the settlement until Teyla pointed out their temporary lodgings.

"This is it." She said, and disappeared inside.

It was a large tent, small for all five of them, but large for a tent. Rodney narrowed his eyes as both Ronon and Sheppard went inside, seemingly swallowed by the brown, waterproof material covering the wooden frame. He tugged Carson inside and grinned.

"Can we go swimming now?"

He really wanted to go swimming. Sheppard was dropping his baggage into the corner of the tent as Ronon flopped onto the thick rug in the center, Teyla was swiftly ridding herself of her own bags and began making her way to the tent flap.

"Do you even know how to swim, Rodney?" Sheppard asked and Rodney's mood abruptly plummeted.

"I..um, I don't really…" He muttered, feeling like Sheppard was growling at him for something.

"You will be fine, Rodney, if you stay close to Carson, Ronon and Sheppard. Just be careful." Teyla informed him with a resentful look at Sheppard who shrugged, not understanding what he'd done wrong.

"Aren't ye coming, Teyla?"

She shook her head with a rueful smile. "I have business to attend to, but I will see you all later tonight." They all bade her goodbye and silence settled over them as she left.

"Let's go then, shall we?" Carson chirped, he went to one of the unoccupied sides of the tent and put his things down in an orderly manner. He paused at a pile of clothes and gave Rodney a smile. "Looks like they knew ye were coming, lad." He called over.

Rodney went and let Carson help him into a pair of loose pants and a snug shirt that had beads hanging off the collar. He blushed a bright pink as Carson undressed and redressed him in front of the other men, but kept himself turned away to hide his embarrassment.

"There ye are, we ready to go now?" The question was directed at Ronon, who was still laid out on the rug, looking like he was almost sleep. He motioned vaguely at them.

"Hmm good." He mumbled. Sheppard nudged him with his foot as they headed out of the tent.

The beach was pretty, the water rolling blue waves and the sand a nice yellow that was warm between Rodney's toes. He laughed and ran forward, liking the way the sand gripped his feet and flew through the air as he kicked it up. Carson and Sheppard were too slow and he went back to pull them forward.

"Come _on_," he cried. "Before it rains!"

The men laughed. "It's not gonna rain, Rodney!"

They had a good time at the beach, as promised, Sheppard hit the waves with a surfboard he'd somehow picked up and Carson stayed on the sand building a wonky castle. Rodney had been swimming, keeping to the shallows because he didn't like the thought of being sucked beneath the foamy waves. He splashed and giggled and leapt over the littler waves whilst running from the bigger ones. He caught sight of a shell beneath the water and scooped it up.

It was pretty, and had a cool swirling pattern down its spine that twirled off into short, tendril like spikes.

"Carson!" He called excitedly. "Look what I found!"

He ran out of the water and up to his friend, dropping to the sand beside him to show him the shell. Carson exclaimed appropriately over the thing, running his fingers over the spikes. Rodney held it out to him.

"It's for you!" Rodney cried happily and beamed when the Doctor took the shell with a grin.

"Why, thank ye, lad! It is a marvelous thing, isn't it?" Carson asked as he set the shell on the top on the sand castle. Rodney nodded.

He sat for a moment, closing his eyes and feeling the sun so warm on his skin. He'd taken the shirt off and Carson had rolled the ends of his pants up to keep them dry, it hadn't worked, Rodney was thoroughly soaked. But the fresh air and the sun made him feel better, more_ alive_.

"Carson." He said after a moment. "Am I going to be a kid forever?"

Carson halted, sand sifting between his fingers. He looked at Rodney sadly. "I don't know, lad. I really don't know."

"But….can I stay with you? Even if I have to be a kid?" Rodney asked in a small voice. He moved closer to Carson.

The man heaved a sigh that may or may not have ended with a little sob. He wrapped the boy in a hug, pulling him closer. They stayed like that for a long time. Carson thinking secret things and Rodney trying to think of things he knew he'd lost. Like numbers and important things.

He wracked his brain trying to remember those things, he _knew _they were important. He _knew._ And he had to get them back. Was it impossible? Could he be brainless and useless forever? He thought. He kept thinking.

But then everything seemed to pushed aside and his childlike glee at finding a pretty shell came back. He wanted to find some more!

He wriggled out of the man's arms and tugged him until he stood up. "We can go find some more! There're some rock pools over there! Can you see?" Rodney cried, happy, he felt happy at the moment. Not knowing that he'd forgotten to worry. He wasn't thinking about losing himself at that moment.

He didn't see Carson hurriedly wiping his eyes before following him. They peered in the rock pools curiously, pulling out shells and rocks and strange, many legged starfish the color of the rainbow. Rodney shrieked when a crab looking thing with one eyes tried to snap at him but Carson flicked it warily out of the way.

It was when the sun was beginning to set that Sheppard joined them. He put his surfboard by their things and rummaged through his bag before pulling out a digital camera.

"Sheppard!" Rodney crowed. "I got a blue starfish!"

Sheppard and Carson laughed and Sheppard snapped a pic.

~OO~

"That was fun!"

"Aye."

"I haven't seen waves like that in a long time."

They were walking back to the settlement, Rodney spinning from Carson's hand and watching the butterfly birds hovering nearby. He clutched Carson's shell in the other hand and the camera was hanging around his neck.

"Can we come back tomorrow?"

"Sure. But we've also got the celebration thing to go to, sounds like it's gonna be fun." Sheppard added.

A peek of the old Rodney showed through as he peered up at Sheppard with such a McKay look that he laughed.

"There's not going to be any lemons is there?" He asked, as if it were a capital offense.

"I'm sure Carson will protect you from any flying fruits, isn't that right, Beckett?" Sheppard grinned in his cocky way. "Aye, lad." Carson answered, voice brimming with mirth. "I'll protect ye."

~OO~

That night the wind picked up and when the sun had set, it had taken all the warmth with it. The team slumbered in their tent, wrapped in their sleeping bags. But Rodney couldn't sleep, he was wrapped in a sleeping bag that smelled funny and made his nose wrinkle in distaste.

So he lay awake and tried to think of the things his mind seemed intent on forgetting.

The wind rose, a howl cut through the air and shivered down his spine. Rodney wondered what kind of animal it was, did it have sharp teeth? Red eyes? Long, blood soaked claws?

He wheezed a little, trying to push the fear away whilst simultaneously clutching at it as tightly as the sleeping bag. He shuddered.

Another howl made him jump and he scrambled from the sleeping bag. He looked back at Carson who was sleeping against the tent wall, his snores quiet and peaceful. He would protect him, if something bad came. Carson was like a father to him….

Rodney frowned, it seemed somehow _wrong_ to call Carson his father, yet _right_.

He looked over to where Ronon and Teyla and Sheppard lay. Teyla was curled around a furry looking pillow, tucked calmly in her blankets that Rodney half guessed she'd made herself. Ronon was his usual stoic self, lying flat on his back with a blanket tossed over him carelessly. Sheppard was sprawled on his side, curled up slightly, cheek rest on his outstretched arm. There was a gun by that hand, as if he were ready for danger even in his sleep.

Rodney crept over to him, whimpering as the howls rose with the wind. He stepped lightly over Ronon's legs and twisted out of Teyla's path.

Sheppard's sleeping bag was unzipped so it was easy enough for Rodney to wriggle beneath it. He curled up against Sheppard's body, pressing his face into the man's chest. There was a little puff of air on the top of his head, Sheppard shifted slightly, realized that it was Rodney and groaned slightly as he tried to push through the layers of sleep.

"Wha's the matter?" He asked groggily.

"Scared." Rodney whimpered against his chest.

Sheppard cocked his head to listen to the next howl.

"S'all right, they won't hurt you."

He zipped the sleeping bag around the boy so that he was held snuggly against his chest. He fell asleep quickly, and Rodney soon after, feeling the thump of his heartbeat against his cheek and breathing in the smell of the ocean that clung to Sheppard.


	6. Coffee Scented Butterfly

Forever End

Chapter Six

And bring your dollies three Climb up my apple tree

Rodney woke to the sound of soft voices. But really, he was too warm to really care, he snuggled deeper into the warmth with a little sigh, listening to the heartbeat against his ear speed up from its slumber. He drifted back to sleep.

~OO~

Sheppard yelled at him, telling him to that he wasn't as smart as he claimed to be. That he was, in fact, just an arrogant fool who liked people to _think_ he was the smartest man.

Panic filled Rodney, he covered his ears and cowered, he didn't want Sheppard to be angry.

_Please_, he begged, _please don't be mad._

Sheppard scowled and walked away into the darkness. Rodney wanted to follow him, he tried to step forward but his feet caught in something thick and stuck. He looked down slowly, dreading, fearing. His breath came in little, white colored puffs.

Rodney whimpered. Their eyes were sightless. They lay unmoving, blood oozing thickly from the gaping hole in their chests. Bullet casings littered their bodies.

Rodney's feet were sinking further into the blood, as if it were quicksand. He struggled, flailing wildly, but found himself restrained but iron bands. They dug in painfully and he cried out. The blood reached his calves, it was cold, thick, and the smell of it made him gag.

_Carson!_ He cried out, _Carson help me!_

But Sheppard was back, looming overhead. He sneered.

_Worthless, you are worthless Rodney. Now that you're stupid. Now that you can't think properly. You are just a kid and we don't need you anymore._

Rodney went still, chest heaving. The blood was up to his waist and he was still sinking. But Rodney didn't struggle anymore. He realized that Sheppard spoke the truth. That, as a child, he truly was worthless. They really didn't need him anymore.

_I'm sorry_, Rodney whispered. Sheppard's form retreated and he was in the darkness again.

Only when the icy blood had risen to his throat did Rodney begin to struggle again. He tried to bring his arms but they were sucked down by his sides. He could not breath, his chest was compressed and he was panicking.

_Worthless_, Rodney's shriek was agonized, _worthless_.

He was submerged beneath the tide of blood. Gasping for air that he couldn't find.

~OO~

"Rodney? _Rodney_!" Carson was also panicking, he bent over the small figure and felt for a pulse.

It was weak, thready. He saw his fingers shaking, and he could feel the heat radiating from the limp form.

"What's wrong with him?" Sheppard asked, he kneeled on top of the sleeping bag, studying Rodney's still form with a mixture of fear and desperation. They had listened the small voice as Rodney had mumbled in his sleep, he'd grown restless, as if he were having a bad dream and then he'd begun to thrash and fight. His limbs had flailed everywhere, striking at Sheppard with such force that he was sure he had a black eye and a bruised jaw.

The cries had come next, Carson had paled, hearing the words repeated pitifully again and again. "Please," Rodney had cried, "Please don't be mad."

Carson had touched his forehead, felt the burning fever that seemed to have snuck up from nowhere. He looked grim and told Teyla and Ronon to open the tent doors so they could get some fresh air. They complied, Sheppard was still hovering over Rodney.

A bitterly cold gust of wind whipped around them. Carson supposed Rodney had been right, it was going to rain. He shook the thought away.

"Carson! Carson help me!" Rodney was shrieking and it brought tears to the Doctor's eyes.

He wiped them away quickly and tried to regain his composure. "His fever is high." He said to Sheppard. "I'd say we need to get him back to Atlantis, quickly, if we want to truly help him."

"Worthless," Rodney mumbled, as if he were getting sleepy, even in his nightmare. "Worthless."

"Lets get him there, then." Sheppard said solemnly and went to scoop the boy up. But as soon as his arms touched Rodney's bare arms, he woke. He took one look at Sheppard, his eyes widened with pure fear and then he began to wail.

It wasn't the usual cry, a sob or even a shriek. It was hysterical, Rodney was scared and he had no other way to voice it. Sheppard jerked back as if burned. Carson gave a little huff and leaned over the boy.

"Pack our things." He called, not taking his eyes off Rodney. The others hurried to comply, it looked like their little beach getaway was at an end.

Rodney's glassy eyes rolled toward Carson, his wail died down a little, but he was still whimpering. The Doctor felt his forehead again and gave a little sigh.

"Oh, lad, ye poor thing."

The boy's hands lifted weakly from his sides, as if he wanted something. It took Carson a moment to realize what. In that pause, Rodney's face dissolved into a mask of tears and he sniffled violently. But Carson lifted the boy gently and held him against his chest. Rodney wrapped his small arms around the Doctor's neck and all the tension left his small frame. His eyes drooped and he rested his too hot forehead on the exposed skin of Carson's throat.

They moved out of the tent quickly, Rodney was vaguely aware of the world moving around him. Faces blinked in and out of his vision and everything was startlingly cold.

"Carson." He mumbled tiredly. "S'too cold."

"I know, lad, ye're a wee bit sick and I'm taking ye back to Atlantis to get ye fixed up."

"But I want…I want to go look at the shells and the starfishes again. I don't want to be sick."

"Just calm down, Rodney. We can come back another time, okay?"

"Hmm."

"Rodney? Ye need to stay awake for a little while longer, and then ye can rest all ye want."

"Wha's the point, I'm worthless."

"What makes ye think that, lad?"

"Sheppard said so."

The comment was met with a heavy silence. The group froze and all eyes were suddenly on Sheppard, who was frowning. He shook his head slowly.

"I never said that."

"Ye sure, son?" Carson asked skeptically, he of all people knew Sheppard's views on this situation.

"Of course!"

The angry quiet was broken by Rodney's pitiful moan, he shifted restlessly in Carson's arms and began to cry. Carson rubbed his back soothingly.

They commenced walking again.

"I didn't say it, Carson." Sheppard insisted, catching up with the Doctor.

"Alright Colonel, I believe ye, Rodney has a fever and I'm thinking he's stuck in his delusions."

Sheppard grimaced but said nothing. They made it back to the Jumper and were soon seated. Teyla paused though, she carefully placed Carson's bags on the floor and stood back. She told them she was going to stay and explain to the Athosian's why they'd left so abruptly and then help with the celebrations. The others nodded their understanding and then they were off.

Through his fever induced haze, Rodney watched the purple sky zoom passed them, he held tighter to his lifeline that held him back as Sheppard turned to glance at him. He was scared of Sheppard at that moment.

He looked away.

~OO~

The colors were too bright!

Rodney cried out as they pushed against his eyes, the blue and purples and white and pinks. And then the black ate at everything and he wished the painful colors would come back. His skin was blistering, held under a magnifying glass until he sizzled away. He forced his heavy limbs to move away from the heat but all he could do was flop uselessly onto his side and then his stomach.

A wind so cold it wracked his body with shivers so strong that he could barely breathe and his muscles seized. Hands rubbed over his back in insistent circles, as if pushing him to do something. His stomach rolled, he tried to tell the hands to stop but he heaved and vomited without even turning his head.

~OO~

The world shifted, upside down? Right side up.

Water dripped onto his forehead, his cheeks, neck and chest. He wailed and struck out, he didn't want to be _cold_; he was already freezing to death!

Someone whispered in his hear and the painful colors returned when he opened his eyes. He closed them quickly, sobbing when he felt himself being sucked into the quicksand again.

~OO~

Sinking.

Rodney was still sinking. There was a butterfly on his cheek, though, and he wriggled his nose in hopes of dislodging it. It fluttered gently, and then crawled up his cheek some more until its delicate little feet were tickling his eyelid. He tried to ignore it, he was so tired and so very cold.

But the butterfly was warm, it spread heat over his face in little puffs.

Rodney, eyes still closed, tried to burrow closer to that warmth.

He wondered where he was. The last thing he remembered was howling, and then Sheppard telling him he was worthless. Rodney's stomach sank when he remembered that, in his minds eye he could still see Sheppard looming over him, a taunting smile hovering over his lips. Rodney tried to push the image away but it was stuck at the forefront of his mind.

He wanted numbers, at that moment, more than anything in the world. He would gladly have died, if he were given the chance to regain what he had lost.

He missed pi and he longed for the feel of complicated equations shifting and coursing through his veins. He wanted it back, he wanted it back so badly.

But he realized that he never would. He would be a child forever and ever. The realization made him sink further into ennui.

He really was worthless.

~OO~

When Rodney woke next, he did not feel any better, his head was pounding and he still felt frozen. The only difference was that he could open his eyes, he had to blink against the glare that made tears spring forward, but he made himself do it.

And he finally figured out where the puffs of warm had come from.

Carson was slumped onto the bed, his arms propped beneath his cheek and his eyes closed. He was snoring gently, but this time Rodney liked it, it made him feel not alone. He wriggled his nose, Carson smelled of coffee. It made Rodney feel guilty, he wondered how long he'd been keeping awake, too long, if he'd fallen asleep in the infirmary again. Rodney patted Carson in the head, gently, he didn't wake him up.

He felt oddly lucid, as if he'd been on drugs and had finally come down. The blankets were tangled around his feet, his bare chest covered in sweat and prickling as he felt the cold. They were back in the infirmary, the private room, where the walls were never ending and round. They were alone, the door closed and the monitors beeping softly. Rodney struggled until he had the blanket pulled up to his neck, and then he settled back down, exhausted again.

He coughed, and it hurt, as if he'd been coughing a lot. The cough sent another racing up his throat, he swallowed it back, too tired to let it out.

He lay there for a long time, ignoring the pull of the IV in the back of his hand so he could curl around Carson and suck in his warmth. He didn't sleep, though, his mind too full of dark and depressing thoughts. He was floating in melancholy when the door opened.

A nurse entered, casually, she didn't notice that Rodney was awake.

The nurse went to the monitors and checked his vitals, tutting when she took his temperature and frowning at something else. She made sure he was getting fluids and then she was gone, without a word to the boy curled around Carson's sleeping form.

Perhaps an hour passed, maybe more, Rodney did not move in that time, the only sign that he still existed at all was the slow beeping of the monitors and the rise and fall of his thin chest. Carson stirred, groaned as he wiped a hand down his face and rubbed his eyes.

His yawn sent another wave of warm air breezing over Rodney's flushed face and he shivered, remaining silent.

The Doctor did not immediately notice that Rodney was awake, he sat back in his chair, grimacing at the kink in his back from hours of sitting in an awkward position. He stretched, another yawn widening his mouth. And then he looked down at the owl-eyed boy and smiled gently.

"How're ye feelin', lad?"

Rodney blinked, remaining impassive. He felt something inside him squirm away, for some reason he didn't want to speak, didn't want to sound like a kid. Carson was his best friend, not his father.

"Rodney?" Carson pressed again, but his smile was faltering.

With great effort, Rodney rolled onto his stomach. He peered at Carson silently for a moment, trying to be reasonable, trying to adult and act like a grown up. But it was so hard, he wanted Carson to tell him it was okay and he would be fine. He wanted Carson to say that he would protect him, keep him safe from hurt and scary thing. From Sheppard.

As soon as Sheppard graced his thoughts, Rodney seized up. He coughed as the panic tightened his throat.

"I don't want to forget, Carson. I want to keep them." Rodney whispered.

Carson frowned in confusion, he leaned forward, again with his arms on the bed so he was on Rodney's level.

"Rodney?"

"The numbers."

The answer elicited a soft sigh from the Doctor.

"I know, lad. But we'll figure this out, and when we do, you'll remember everything again."

"You promise.?"

"Aye." Carson replied after a moment. "I promise."

"And…Carson?"

"Yes, lad?"

"Do…do you, I mean, do you hate me…for being like this?"

The Doctor was shocked into silence. He felt a bubbling of anger, as well, anger that this had been done to his friend, anger that he could see Rodney slipping before his eyes. He knew what he saw, those blue eyes, once so full, thinking, snapping, smiling, they were emptying. Each time Rodney blinked, he lost a little piece of himself.

So Carson stood up, watching with mild panic when he saw Rodney's bleak stare, he thought he was going to be alone. But the Doctor simply sat on the edge of the bed, he untangled Rodney from the blankets and scooped him up.

The relief that Carson was not leaving him made Rodney limp. Carson patted his back as another cough caught in his throat.

"I could never hate ye, Rodney. I've always loved ye, as a friend, as family. Nothing will ever make me hate ye."

He spoke softly, and Rodney listening not only to the sound leaving his mouth, but the rumble of the words in Carson's chest. The Doctor lay back with Rodney on his chest, the boy was grateful for the warmth that seeped into his skin and into his frozen bones. He fiddled with the stethoscope where it lay by his cheek with his small fingers.

"I'm tired." Rodney whispered hoarsely.

"Go to sleep, lad." Carson coaxed, he wiped his eyes and Rodney suspected he was crying.

He shifted his head so that he could stare at Carson's face, chin digging into the man's shirt.

"Why are you crying? Did I do something wrong?"

"Nay, lad. I'm just…I'm just thinking."

"About what?"

But Rodney's question was dismissed, whether because Carson did not want to answer, or because he did not hear, Rodney did not know. He blinked dolefully, another shiver hitting him and then he coughed.

"What's wrong with me? I don't feel good."

"Aye, I expect ye don't, lad. You've got a fever again, I believe yer body found it hard to cope with the outing we had the other day, ye need to take it easy."

"But I liked the beach." Rodney protested sadly.

"I know, but since ye're situation isn't what we'd call natural, we need to be more careful, we really don't know how yer body is going to react. The fever ye're feeling is caused by yer body fighting off an infection, all we can do is hope it doesn't last too long." The Doctor finished slowly. And Rodney was glad that he had spoken to him like an adult, not a child.

"Oh." He said softly, before coughing gently and laying his head back on Carson's chest.

He was silent for a long time, Carson assumed he was asleep and was beginning to drift off himself. But Rodney was speaking again, his voice small, slurred, sleepy.

"You can protect me." He said.

"Protect you?"

"From him."

Carson's heart fluttered painfully.

"Who are ye speaking about, Rodney?" He prodded gently, trying not to let the name he was already thinking slip passed his lips.

"Sheppard." Rodney said. And Carson's heart sank. The word was spoken tiredly, but laced with fear and something else.

Carson knew that he would have to talk with the Colonel, but he would also have to speak with Heightenmeyer. He sighed and clutched Rodney, now asleep, that little bit tighter.

~OO~

"How is he?"

"His fever is down, I'm relieved to say. But the lad's body is under a massive strain, his mental state and his physical state are fighting it out, as odd as that may seem."

"How so?" Weir was worried, Carson could clearly see that, but he didn't know how to ease her worry. He couldn't even rid himself of his own.

"Well," The Doctor began on a sigh. He motioned to Rodney, who they could see was sitting at Weir's desk, legs swinging and hands wrapped around a pen as he scribbled on a notepad. Every few minutes he would look up, see Carson and look back down, as if he had to make sure the Doctor hadn't left him. "His body wants his mind to act like a child, but his mind wants his body to act like an adult. That's the easiest way to explain it."

"So there is conflict."

"Aye." The Doctor said sadly. He rubbed his eyes and Weir gave him the once over.

"You look tired. You should really get some rest, I'm sure Dr. Biro won't mind filling in for you for at least a day."

"Aye, she wouldn't, but Rodney doesn't like to be alone."

They watched said boy glance up at them and back down. He frowned and rubbed his head, as if he had a headache.

"One night, Carson, I could even enlist the Colonel and Ronon to keep him company." Weir said. She noticed Carson flinch slightly and frowned. "What's the matter?"

"It might be nothing, but…I think Rodney may be havin' nightmares. He mentions Sheppard a lot, says the Colonel calls him worthless. And no," He added, seeing Weir's startles expression. "I don't believe the Colonel actually told him that, but I'm hesitant to keep them in close contact until Rodney has spoken to Kate about it."

Weir nodded slowly, her mouth quirking sadly.

They both turned to stare at the young boy, he held up the notepad, looking skeptical and then hurriedly drew something on it. He looked up at the pair watching him, not seeming the least bit annoyed, and motioned for them to come over.

They did, and he held up the drawing.

To Weir it looked vaguely like an elephant with two humps. But Carson knew what it was and he smiled.

"It's us with the blue starfish!" Rodney cried excitedly.


	7. Kolya's Plan

**Forever End**

Chapter Seven

Slide down my rainbow Into my cellar door

"Why are you afraid of Colonel Sheppard, Rodney?"

Rodney avoided Heightenmeyer's gaze, staring intently at his socked feet swinging gently through the air. He didn't want to talk to Kate, she had a way of looking through him, and no matter what he said, she seemed to hear something different.

"Rodney?" Kate prodded gently.

"I'm…I don't know."

Kate wrote something on her notepad. "Did he say something to you?"

"Yes..no, I don't know." Rodney shrugged uncomfortably. "I just get…I keep getting this feeling that he's mad at me, that I did something wrong."

Kate leaned forward.

"You _haven't_ done anything wrong, Rodney. Sheppard knows this, have you talked to him about it?"

Rodney shook his head.

"I think I _did_ do something wrong." He insisted.

"I do not think that Colonel Sheppard is mad at you, Rodney. I think he is worried, I think he is angry at _himself,_ for letting this happen to you. But he's not mad at you."

Rodney said nothing.

"How would you describe your relationship with Doctor Beckett, Rodney?" Kate asked with a little smile, Rodney got the feeling that she was laughing at him.

"I don't…I dunno."

"Do you see him as a friend or more of a father figure?"

"Why does it matter?"

"I'm trying to help you, Rodney."

"Sure." He sighed, looking out the window. It was raining. "Carson is…safe."

"Carson feels protective of you, it makes you feel secure." Kate suggested and Rodney nodded reluctantly.

"He…Carson doesn't make me feel like a freak."

"You're not a freak, Rodney."

"Yeah." He huffed. "I am."

There was a pregnant silence, filled only by the bubble of coffee burning where the maker sat on her desk. Rodney used to like coffee, couldn't go more than half a day without a cup of the blessed caffeine, but the thought of drinking it at that moment, made him want to throw up.

"I keep…" Rodney began awkwardly. He wasn't good at talking about this kind of thing, even as a kid.

"What is it, Rodney? You know you can speak freely with me."

"Dreams. Scary dreams." Rodney whispered and shivered, remembering the dreams with vivid clarity.

"Tell me about them." Kate said.

"They…in them it's always dark. And..and Teyla and Ronon are always hurt and there's all this blood and I can see their faces and then Sheppard's there and he's angry at me and he tells me I'm worthless and…and.." Rodney broke off, his throat tight and eyes stinging with tears.

Kate didn't touch him, although he would have welcomed any comfort then, even from the shrink.

"I think this is a manifestation of your fears, Rodney. I think this is a part of the accident that turned you into a child. You will need to talk to Sheppard and face your fears."

"I don't know if I can." Rodney whispered sadly. He missed Sheppard.

~OO~

"Got any three's?"

"Go fish."

"Are you sure? Because you just asked-"

"_Go fish_."

Rodney sighed. Ronon was okay, but he didn't seem to get this game. They were in the isolation room, his round walled prison, Rodney on one end of the bed and Ronon at the other, a pile of playing cards between them.

Rodney picked up another card. He felt nervous, twitchy, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He hadn't seen Carson for a while, had no idea where he was, but it was hard, being away from him. The day had crawled by slowly, first he'd been to see the shrink, and then a few hours of sleep that the lingering aches of his fever insisted he take, and then Carson had gone and Ronon was suddenly there, to large and real, silent in his imposing way.

Ronon asked if he had any six's, Rodney handed them over silently.

He looked at the door nervously. Was Carson coming back?

"Relax, McKay." Ronon rumbled.

Rodney blinked at him, Ronon looked calm, his posture relaxed. He wondered why he wasn't sparring with Sheppard, or in the mess, it was dinner time, wasn't it? Rodney wasn't hungry, he'd barely managed to eat half of his lunch, let alone the jell-o Ronon had snuck in for him.

"I think I'm tired." He muttered, and it wasn't a lie, his head was pounding and his limbs felt leaden. It might have been the lingering effects of the fever but he didn't care. The light was glaring and every little noise got on his nerves. He wished Carson was there to make it better.

Ronon nodded and began scooping up all the cards, dumping them on the table in the corner.

"Can you dim the lights or something?" Rodney asked quietly, yawning slightly.

Ronon went over to do just that as Rodney pulled the blanket up and flopped back onto the bed.

He thought about Sheppard, he hadn't seen him since they'd been to the mainland. He thought he'd heard the sound of his voice, drifting in and out of his feverish dreams. He was confused, he couldn't discern the dream Sheppard from the real Sheppard. It scared him, this lack of hold he had on reality.

Not for the first time, Rodney wondered if he would lose himself completely.

Ronon sat in the chair next to his bed, not speaking or moving, just sitting and watching as Rodney's eyes grew heavy and slid shut.

~OO~

When he woke next, the room was still dark and for several moments, he was stuck gazing in disorientation at the dimness. He looked to his right and saw the empty chair, Ronon had left, leaving him alone.

He didn't like being alone.

The fear bubbled in his stomach like tar, thick and foreboding. He scrubbed a hand down his face and drew in a deep, shuddering breath. He didn't want to be alone.

He leaned over and snagged Sheppard's jacket where it was hidden beneath his pillow, wrapping one of the sleeves around his hand.

Getting off the bed was simple enough, slipping out of the isolation room was easy, finding Carson was the hardest part. He didn't know where the Doctor's room was, or, at least, he didn't remember if he knew. The nurses weren't paying attention, he was glad, although he could have out-yelled them, he suspected the exhaustion creeping into his small limbs wouldn't let him put up much of a fight.

On his toes, creeping out of the infirmary and into the hallways, Rodney felt the small coil desperation growing in the pit of his stomach. He didn't know why he felt so distraught at the thought of being alone. But, to him, it was like being abandoned, like no one cared anymore.

A tear slid unchecked down his pale cheek.

The transporter flashed, bright enough to leave him blinking to clear the white dots dancing across his vision. Rodney found himself in a familiar corridor, he walked along it, peering around, trying to figure out just why it was so familiar.

And when it hit him, Rodney froze, wanting to turn back and run to the infirmary but too tired to actually take another step. The door in front of him was Sheppard's.

Rodney looked back, but something pushed him and he decided to take the last few steps to Sheppard's door. He waved his hand over the panel, listening to the little chime of the doorbell. He was nervous, eyes darting fearfully up and down the corridors. He should go back, his mind was babbling, he should really go back.

The door whooshed open and he was caught, eyes wide and breath frozen in his chest. He stared up at Sheppard, unable to speak. Sheppard looked tired, but not like he had been sleeping, there were dark smudges beneath his eyes and his normal, stylishly messed hair was tousled and flattened on one side. He was holding a bundle of papers in one hand. Like he'd been doing reports.

"Hey, buddy, what's up? Shouldn't you be asleep?"

Rodney scuffed his foot on the ground, he still had Sheppard's jacket clutched in his hand and fiddled with the sleeve to avoid looking up. He abruptly found the desire to run waning, exhaustion cutting everything but the need to sleep out of his body and mind.

"Um, I wanted to…I think…"

The mumbles were barely coherent but Sheppard simply nodded and motioned for Rodney to come inside. The boy did, wriggling his toes to chase back the cold. He listened to the whoosh of the door close and rolled his head back to watch Sheppard moving toward him, he propelled Rodney to the bed and began trying to sort through the paper covering it.

"You can, you know, keep going, I don't want to bother you.."

"Nah, it's fine, Rodney, I was getting sick of working, anyway." Sheppard replied lightly, a smile curling his lips. He threw the papers onto the desk, uncaring that they fluttered like crinkled, grotesque moths across the floor.

Rodney drew a breath, but found it stuck in his throat. He wanted to talk to Sheppard, about the dreams, about the _situation_.

"Sheppard, we need to-"

"Talk, yeah, I know." Sheppard sighed.

After an awkward moment, Rodney climbed onto the bed, gritting his teeth as his small, yet strangely leaden limbs tried to drag him down. He was sweating by the time he slumped onto the blankets, little groans slipping passed his lips unbidden.

"You okay?" The bed dipped, and Rodney blinked into the worried face suddenly looming above him.

"Yeah." He breathed tiredly. But he shook his head to clear it. "I need to ask you something."

"Yeah, buddy?"

Rodney rolled onto his side and managed to push himself upright, sitting with his legs crossed, Sheppard's jacket between his small fingers.

"Do you…I mean, do you hate me being like this?" Rodney asked without looking up.

"What? Why would I? You're still the same as before, you're still McKay."

"No, I'm Rodney, not McKay, not Doctor, nothing, only Rodney."

"But-"

"I'm not smart anymore, Sheppard." Rodney snapped, but he wasn't angry at Sheppard, he was angry with himself. With his mind and his body. "I cant-cant think anymore, everything is just…gone. I'm no longer any use to anybody, I cant help Atlantis, I'm surprised they haven't sent me back to earth by now."

Sheppard watched the boy's lip tremble and felt a sweep of protectiveness wash over him. He didn't know what he had done to make Rodney fear him so much, but it hurt, it cut deep.

Almost on impulse, he lifted a hand and smoothed the young scientist's hair away from his face, the protective-ness came back in full force.

"I can never hate you, Rodney. You're my best friend, my team mate, and you're one hell of a hero when it comes to saving our butts. You should know that I'll always look out for you, no matter what happens or how smart you are." Sheppard said. He didn't usually bare his heart like that, but he had the feeling Rodney wouldn't mock him, in fact, he was pretty sure the boy was glad he'd spoken.

"You're really not mad at me?" Rodney whispered. Sheppard kept up the soft sweep of his hand over the boy's hair, trying to find something odd or uncomfortable about it, but failing.

"No, of course not." He watched Rodney's eyes flutter. "I should probably get you back to the infirmary, Carson will be worried." He said, intending to do just that.

A small hand snaked out and clung to his hand, small fingers warm. Sheppard looked down at Rodney's face and felt himself smile, the boy was fighting to stay awake.

"Carson left, can't I stay with you?" Rodney asked. He peered at him with pleading eyes, and Sheppard just couldn't say no.

"Sure, buddy." He murmured and immediately saw the tension ooze out of the small body. He ran a hand through his hair before gently pushing onto the bed, scooping the sleepy child up and depositing him beneath the covers. Rodney murmured something softly, gripping the jacket sleeve tighter. Sheppard smiled when he saw that, it had been the only thing to give him hope that it would all be okay.

"Sleep tight, buddy." He said and Rodney smiled in his sleep.

Sheppard scratching at his chin for a moment, gazing at the chest rising and falling with each little breath. Rodney was so small, it seemed impossible that Rodney's personality and life could fit into that little form. The fever, to his eyes, appeared to have diminished that life somewhat, squeezing it from his friend until the little pieces of his personality slipped through the cracks.

Sheppard pulled the blankets tighter around the boy, he sat on the edge of the bed and began untying his boots and stripping of his uniform, donning a pair of trackies and his favorite shirt. He was tired, there was no denying that, but he'd been unable to sleep due to the turmoil running amuck in his gut, head, his heart. He felt something ease inside him, he hoped Rodney would trust him now, he wanted his friend to trust him so badly.

His gaze was drawn to a piece of paper tacked to his wall.

He stared at the drawing for a long time, it had the precision and detail that Rodney had always put into his tech designs. The drawing featured the Stargate, the symbols were exact and Sheppard had a feeling that it was correct to scale.

Sheppard curled up on the bed beside Rodney, not touching the boy but close enough that, when Rodney shuffled in his sleep so that they were facing each other, he could count the lashes shadowed across his cheek. He dimmed the lights with an easy thought and drifted off into a deep sleep with the image of Rodney's peaceful face carved into his memory.

~OO~

There was a stifled giggle, someone whispered, another chortled.

The lights slowly brightened, revealing five figures gazing at the two figures on the bed with bright eyes. Ronon had alerted Carson that he'd lost Rodney, having gone to relieve himself, only to come back and find the isolation room empty. Elizabeth, Teyla and Lorne had been quick to volunteer in the search, but each of them had suspected the whereabouts of the missing child.

Lorne said something quietly and Ronon smirked.

Sheppard and Rodney were still sleeping, unaware of their hovering guests. Sometime in the night, Rodney had flopped onto Sheppard, like a limpet clinging to a rock. Sheppard was on his back, one hand on Rodney's small back and the other dangling over the edge of the bed.

There was a bright flash as Carson snapped a picture, smiling gently. Although he did feel somewhat saddened, Rodney was moving onto Sheppard now, he no longer needed Carson. The thought was selfish and filled Carson with shame, so he forced the small smile and tried to laugh with everyone else.

Rodney's small face wrinkled, and his feet kicked gently, as if he were having a bad dream. The five in the room hushed slightly, simply watching, and then with a little nudge from Elizabeth, they all trooped out into the corridor and let the door whoosh shut behind them.

Rodney opened his eyes, a small frown on his face, he thought he'd heard Carson, had dreamed that the kindly doctor was near. But opening his eyes revealed nothing but the dark room, and he was severely disappointed, sinking back into a fitful sleep with the sound of a heartbeat thudding in his ear.

~OO~

"_Unscheduled Off World Activation."_

Both Rodney and Sheppard woke with a jolt. Rodney blinked blearily, trying to figure out what had woken him, he felt hurried hands push him to the side and he shivered in the abrupt cold. Sheppard was talking to someone, a hand to his ear, he hurried around the room, picking up clothes and attaching his belt, Rodney caught a quick flash of a gun being slipped into its holster.

"Sheppard…?" Rodney said, the beginnings of worry gnawing at his stomach. He crawled to the end of the bed, listening to the alarm blaring in the room.

"_Stay here."_ Sheppard ordered and then he was gone.

Rodney stared at the retreating figure and watched the door shut behind him, he didn't want to be alone, he didn't want to be kept in the dark. With a little huff, Rodney summoned his dwindling strength and pushed through the last cobwebs of sleep. It tangled around his mind, making it hard to concentrate and even harder to move. But he got his legs over the edge of the bed, and spilled onto the floor, his legs were like jelly.

"Since when have I listened to Sheppard's orders?" He huffed indignantly.

People were running around in the corridors, weapons overflowing on black clad soldiers pushed Rodney against the wall as they ran passed, their team leaders shouting orders as they ran, having no time to stop.

Rodney peered around the corner, the transporter was clear, if he made it to the infirmary, he might be able to get to Carson. Hope lit in his chest.

Running on bare feet. Rodney tapped the glowing dot nearest to the infirmary and waited for the flash. He caught sight of a startled face peering at him, before the doors closed and he was taken to his destination.

But Carson was not in the infirmary, no one was, not even a nurse. With a small frown of consternation, Rodney tiptoed out of the room and found himself in a deserted hallway.

It was as if the whole of Atlantis was holding her breath, and her inhabitants could do nothing but mimic her. Rodney took a deep breath. Maybe they were in the control room, the alarms had stopped, so he assumed the threat had been taken care of and he was safe enough going to take a look.

Following the path he assumed would take him to the gate room, Rodney was happy to see that his memory did not fail him, and he stepped into the silent room with a bounce in his small steps. The whole room was bathed in a blue glow, Rodney watched his rippled and dance over the floor and walls, entranced.

And then a harsh voice drove him out of the daze and he looked up with wide eyes at the scene before him.

"Drop the gun, Sheppard."

Kolya.

He stood before the Stargate, surrounded by so many armed soldiers, but he was not intimidated in the least. Even from where Rodney stood, he could see the little smirk flickering over the tall man's features.

Sheppard was standing several feet in front of Kolya, his gun trained, steady, strong. There were several bodies littering the ground at his feet, pools of red spreading around them.

"Like hell, Kolya."

"Then Doctor Beckett dies."

"Kolya." Sheppard growled. "We've already opened the gate for you, you can go back and we can pretend this never happened."

"And what would be the point in that, Colonel? I need someone, and I'm going to take them?"

There was a horrified silence.

And then an inarticulate howl rose from the depths of Rodney's throat and spilled from his lips. Such panic, horror, fear. It clouded Rodney's mind and he did not even notice that his feet were moving without direction, running toward the man who he loved above all else.

"Carson!" he cried, he reached the circle of soldiers and was about to pass through, but a hand snagged his arm quickly, halting his approach. He struggled against it.

"Rodney. I told you not to move." Sheppard gritted out, never taking his eyes from Kolya. The terror on Carson's face was not masked, he breathed awkwardly with Kolya's arm wrapped around his throat and was clearly trying to ease away from the gun pressed to his temple.

"Rodney, lad, go back to the infirmary." Carson said in a strangled voice.

Kolya's smile blossomed. "Rodney? As in, Doctor McKay? I see I have another bargaining chip."

"You have nothing, Kolya." Sheppard hissed.

But Rodney wasn't listening to what the adults said around him, nothing but Carson was important, at that moment. All he wanted was Carson, and possibly some Jell-o. Something in the back of his mind told him this was wrong, that he should be worried about what was happening around him, that something was wrong.

"Rodney." Someone hissed, but he'd wriggled out of the hand holding him in place and was hurrying the small distance between him and Carson. The Doctor was motioning for him not to, for him to back up. But Rodney was already there, grabbing a hold of Carson's pant leg.

"Carson! What's going on?" He cried with a frown, he wanted Carson to pick him up, he was cold.

"Doctor McKay, what a pleasant surprise." Said the cold voice of Kolya, Rodney peered around Carson and shrank back, catching sight of the taller man.

"What do you want?" He asked in a small voice, beginning to quiver. Why was he hurting Carson?

"I think, Doctor McKay, that I want you."

There was a little shuffle, Kolya took his arm away from Carson's throat and gave the startled man a little push, making him stumble. Rodney was grabbed, roughly, the hand gripping his arm was cold and rough, he tried to squirm away but gave a little whimper when the grip tightened, threatening to crush his arm.

"Kolya! Let him go!" Sheppard shouted, he looked desperate, one hand he used to steady Carson and the other he used to hold the gun, it was shaking ever so slightly.

Rodney was lifted from the ground, Kolya kept him still with an arm trapping his arms to his sides. Something cold and uncomfortable was pressed against his cheek.

"Carson?" He squeaked frightfully. He saw the Doctor try to take step forward but Sheppard held him back. "What's going on?"

"It's okay, Rodney." Carson said, but there was a tremor to his voice that Rodney did not recognize. "Just stay calm and ye'll be fine."

"No, he won't." Kolya said.

And they stepped backward into the event horizon.


	8. White Light

**Forever End**

Chapter Eight

And we'll be jolly friends Forever more

The Stargate spat them out with a harsh hiss, leaving Rodney breathless and staggering against the tall figure gripping his arm. He looked around him, blearily taking in the scenery surrounding the Stargate. There were people, many people, all dressed in the familiar Genii uniform with their chunky, less than agile weapons clutched in their sweaty paws. Trees lined the clearing, taller and sharper than any he'd ever seen, they reached with gnarled branches toward them, hungry, seeking. Rodney's confidence wilted, he didn't know this planet, which likely meant it was not one they'd ever laid foot on.

Rodney was scared, it had happened so suddenly, all he'd wanted was Carson, why had Kolya taken him?

A little sniffle escaped him, followed by a sob. The men looked at him with a mixture of surprise, disgust and smugness. Rodney was purposefully keeping his gaze averted from Kolya, not wanting to look upon the cold eyes he knew would be watching him. Also watching him, a vivid array of bruises disguising his face, was Ladon Radim. He looked shocked at Rodney's appearance, but also guilty. Rodney suspected it had not been the man's intention to pave the way through to Atlantis. But when Kolya wanted something, he got it.

Rodney caught sight of the DHD, and saw a hunched figure fiddling with the crystals, the long tail of wires hooked up to an old looking computer were tangled around the person's knees.

"I must admit, Doctor McKay, even after hearing the rumors, I am surprised to see you in this state. There is something kind of…._humiliated_, being transformed into ones childhood self, wouldn't you say?" Kolya said.

Rodney bent his head, pulling Sheppard's jacket up to his face so he could bury his nose and mouth into it, trying to ignore those around him and focus on the smells of home. It worked for about a second, before Kolya let go of his arm and pushed him forward. He spoke to the men around him, and they answered back curtly, Rodney shuffled a few steps, still with the jacket to his face.

"You have six minutes to finish, Stian."

The person by the DHD looked up, young face furrowed into a frown and flame hair spiked up at uneven angles. He shook his head and muttered something, but clearly feared Kolya enough not to protest. Rodney snuck surreptitious glances at the man, curious to see what he was doing. Maybe he was trying to break the DHD.

But no, they couldn't mean to, if they wanted get off this planet and to their…secret base? Rodney was annoyed at himself, he couldn't think properly, couldn't think like he used to. He supposed that was the effects of his reversion. He was five years old, after all.

"What…what are you doing? What do you want from me?" Rodney whispered, feeling small and insignificant. He quivered beneath the cold stare.

"You have the Ancient Gene, Doctor McKay."

"But…" Rodney shuffled from foot to foot, casting an anxious glance to where the man sat with the DHD. "But, I don't want to go anywhere with you. I want to go back home."

"Kolya, you can't think to-" A swift punch to Ladon's stomach prevented his incredulous shout from finishing; he looked shockingly pale beneath those bruises.

"Keep him quiet." Kolya murmured to his men and they nodded solemnly.

He turned back to Rodney.

"You will do what I say, Doctor McKay, or you will suffer." The threat was sound, Rodney knew, and he shook his head dizzily.

"I want to go home." He whispered.

"You can't. Stian, you are finished. Dial in the sequence and set the alarm." The men around them began moving, two of them pushing Ladon forward roughly until he was kneeling beside Rodney. The boy looked at the man with a petrified expression.

"What's going on?" He asked, voice small. He was feeling dizzy, adrenaline was coursing like liquid fire through his veins and his heart was fluttering too fast and hard against his ribs. "What alarm?"

"Even as a child, you are dangerous, McKay, and so, for me, it is better that you do not know." Kolya said, hearing his question. Ladon remained silent, he eyed Kolya warily.

"I won't use my gene for you, Kolya, I'm not going to help you. After everything you've done, after the attacks against Atlantis, you must understand that I am more than hesitant to help you." Rodney stated boldly, his clear words betraying his small, frail body.

Kolya almost smiled, turning away so Rodney was faced with his back. He snuck another glance at Ladon, sniffling.

"How did he get to you?" Rodney asked him.

Ladon winced, his bloodied nose was swollen and his lip split. "Same way he got through to Atlantis, a trap."

"Oh." There was the sound of the gate being dialed, the men around them shifted, fidgeting. "Where are they taking us?"

They watched as Kolya went to stand with the man, Stian, who shrank back.

"I do not know, I am not even sure I'll live long enough to find out." Ladon said softly, he didn't sound especially afraid, more tired, annoyed, than anything else.

The boy's eyes widened, he didn't want Ladon to die, he was the safest person here, made him feel not so alone. There was a whoosh as the Stargate activated and the violent blue splash exploded through the air, coming within an inch of their kneeling bodies. Rodney screeched, falling back in fright, Ladon only cringed. When Rodney regained his composure, he was red faced and wide-eyed, grabbing onto Ladon's arm in sudden panic.

The men began moving out, disappearing into the event horizon one by one. Forceful arms yanked Ladon and Rodney to their feet, and began pushing them forward, Ladon stumbled, he looked broken and hurt and Rodney wondered if he was alright. His small hand was ripped from Ladon's arm and he fought o keep calm. But it was too hard, they were a meter from the Stargate, a half meter, Rodney panicked.

He shrieked and struggled, flailing his arms and legs in an attempt to rid himself of the arms holding him hostage. There was a little chuckle, someone said something to someone else and Rodney, his nose a hairsbreadth from the churning blue, wanted to scream.

A brutal clout to the side of his head cut off any scream that may have been building, the pain was immediate and sharp, forcing his body to go limp so that the hands were the only things holding him upright. The Genii soldiers carried his limp form through the Stargate, smiling until they reached the other side.

Rodney was dizzy and, added with the sudden weightlessness of moving through the Stargate, found himself retching. His feet hit the ground on the other side and before he could blink, he was throwing up. The vomit burned his throat and puddled on his own bare feet and the back of the pants of the Genii soldier in front of him.

There was a lot of swearing, the hands holding him let go, as if suddenly burned and Rodney was unceremoniously dropped to the ground. He clutched his head, sobbing. He wanted to go home and he wanted Carson, Carson would make the pain go away and make everything safe and alright.

"Get up." He flinched at the cold demand, but remained huddled on the ground. "Get up, Doctor McKay."

"He is just a child, Kolya, leave him be." Ladon said.

Kolya stepped forward, leaned down, and grasped the collar of Rodney's shirt, lifting his small body off the ground until he could see his face. He snarled when he saw the tears streaming down the boy's plump cheeks and the little trickle of blood running down the side of his face. Giving a disgusted, Kolya dropped him and moved away.

"Who hit him?" The soldier stepped out from behind Rodney and approached Kolya, he seemed sure of himself, perhaps he was higher ranking than the others, and therefor thought himself more important.

"I did, sir." The soldier said.

There was a tense pause among the men, filled only by the swoosh of the Stargate closing behind them and the howl of the wind around them. Beneath Rodney's cheeks, he could feel something crunchy and cold, it numbed his bared skin and sent shudder after shudder racing through his body. He blinked the tears from his eyes, the snow clung to his lashes and he wanted nothing more than to be tucked safely in bed, wrapped in a mountain of blankets.

He could see the soldier and part of Kolya, there was a thunderous bang and the white ground was suddenly colored a deep crimson. At first his mind could not comprehend what was happening, but then the soldier's legs buckled and he collapsed, giving Rodney a clear view of the sizeable hole in the soldiers head.

His stomach roiled and he scrunched his eyes shut to block out the image.

"You, pick him up. Get moving, now." Kolya said.

The snow crunched, people spoke, and then gently hands were prying his hands away from his head. Rodney whimpered, not wanting to be there, not wanting to be touched. He blinked up at the bruised face hovering above him, Ladon, and the hands touching the cut at the side of his head.

"What's going on?" He managed to whisper. Ladon sighed, glancing behind him before replying.

"I assume we're moving to their base of operation, no, I do not know where that is and no, I didn't happen to catch the address when they were dialing. Now, hold still." Ladon lifted Rodney easily into his arms, one beneath the boy's legs and the other wrapped around his shoulders.

The sway as Ladon struggled to his feet forced Rodney to close his eyes and try to ignore the dizziness. He made himself look, however, as they began to tramp after the soldiers, he wanted to know where they were going, and how to get there.

"Do you…do you think Sheppard will be able to find us?" Rodney whispered, he looked down at Sheppard's jacket; it was slightly damp from the snow.

"I don't know, McKay, I-"

"Rodney."

"Pardon?" Ladon frowned.

"I'm not McKay, I'm not Doctor, I'm just Rodney."

"Oh, well, Rodney, I would suppose your team would spare nothing to track you down, especially Colonel Sheppard." Ladon amended.

Rodney sniffled.

"They'll get you out too, you know." He said after a moment, sensing that was the reason for the tightness in Ladon's voice. "Sheppard wouldn't leave you behind."

"Hmm, if you say so."

"They will," Rodney insisted, "they'll know it wasn't your intention to let Kolya into Atlantis, I'll tell them the truth."

He felt Ladon sigh, felt his chest heave, but he said nothing else on the matter, for which Rodney took as an agreement. He blinked sleepily up at the man, feeling the sudden, overwhelming urge to close his eyes and sink into unconsciousness. It would be so easy, Ladon wouldn't let Kolya hurt him, he thought.

"Stay awake, Rodney." Ladon said under his breath, and Rodney felt it against his chin, a small puff of warmth in the frigid cold. "You need to stay awake; I think you have, what do you call it, a concussion."

"Concuss…I didn't get hit _that_ hard, Ladon."

"Hmm, yes, well, just stay awake, I need someone to talk to." Ladon said to the boy blinking blearily up at him. He walked stiffly along with the soldiers, and though he strained his ears to pick up snatches of the conversations going on, he could make no sense of them. He knew how Kolya worked, the man was made of steel, he barreled through life without pausing and did not care for those he crushed.

Ladon was worried that Kolya would kill him as soon as they reached their destination. He was of no use anymore, having already laid the trap for Atlantis, he could do nothing else. He looked down at the child in his arms. He'd gotten such a shock seeing the usually such eccentric and intelligent man come through the Stargate as a child. He was so small, body thin but cheeks retaining that roundness of a child well fed. His eyes were bright and blue, although at the moment they gazed blankly up at him from beneath the spikey edges of his unruly hair. Ladon was troubled by the blood drying at his temple, he probably did have a concussion, and if so, he really shouldn't be allowed to sleep.

But it was hard to deny the man….boy, when he looked so small and frail in his arms, clutching a damp Atlantean jacket in his pudgy fingers.

Suddenly Rodney's eyes scrunched up and his cheeks flushed red. Ladon frowned, he wasn't good with children, and didn't know what this meant.

"Rodney, are you okay?" He made sure to keep his voice down, warily eyeing Kolya at the head of the procession. But he quickly brought his attention back to the boy in his arms.

"No," Rodney sobbed, tears filling his eyes and rolling down his cheeks. "I just wanted Carson, he'd make this all better, he'd know what to do."

And then he buried his little face in Ladon's shoulder and began to cry in earnest, to which Ladon had no idea how to handle. He patted Rodney's shaking shoulder, but awkwardly. He pitied the boy, he did, but he didn't know what to say.

They walked for a long time, long enough that Ladon's arms were burning from the effort of carrying his bundle and his legs were a solid mass of useless flesh, numbed from the cold. He'd long ago let Rodney fall asleep, feeling for the boy and had wrapped the jacket Rodney had been holding around him, it had been big enough to cover most of his legs as well as his neck and jaw. Ladon could see the top half of his small face, eyes closed and cheeks still flushed from crying. He held him closer to his chest.

The planet seemed to be smothered in snow, the crystalline flakes falling thicker as the hours dragged by, he glanced back often, hoping to keep the Stargate in view. But with a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach, Ladon realized that Kolya had purposefully chosen to lead them far, far away from 'gate, knowing they wouldn't be able to find their way back in the featureless landscape.

It seemed an eternity had passed when they finally stopped, the soldier's moved restlessly about them, barely speaking now as they watching Kolya for further instruction. Their leader told them to hurry up and they began hurrying. Ladon felt uncomfortable, being among these men who wore the same uniform, yet who had willingly betrayed their people and chosen to exile themselves and follow the bastard Kolya. Disgust and anger rose up in him but he did not act on it, knowing it would be smarter to keep himself out of the man's way for as long as possible.

He watched Kolya watch the men around them converge around something on the ground, they bent and uncovered a circular metal cap that, when they opened it, revealed a dark vertical tunnel.

Laden gulped, of course Kolya had chosen to build his base underground, he was that kind of man. After a moment of watching some of the soldier's make their way down, he was ushered closer and told to do likewise. It was a struggle; he ended up straddling the edge of the pipe, carefully arranging Rodney so that his limp body was folded over his shoulder. The rungs were rusted and awkward to hold on to and Laden had to move slowly, fearing he would slip and fall to his death.

No one spoke as they made their way down, and once the cap of the pipe was slammed shut, tossing them into darkness, their concentration was used purely on the rungs leading them down into the pits of hell.

~OO~

"I want that address!"

Carson cringed away from Sheppard, he could almost feel the anger radiating off the man, could see the rage in his eyes and hear it in his voice. He himself felt this, but he didn't know how to show it. All he could do was sit and wait, still and silent, so unsure.

The guilt was eating him alive. He should have told Rodney to go back, should have made sure he was somewhere safe before heading to the 'gate room. He'd been told that the boy had come searching for him and, after discovering the infirmary empty, had then made his to the 'gate room.

"Radek! Get me the bloody address!"

Carson watched Sheppard charging over to the unsuspecting little man, but couldn't muster the pity he would usually feel. His eyes burned and he didn't even try to stop the tears from trickling down.

He sat there feeling useless and thought of Rodney.

~OO~

Rodney woken with a start, everything was upside down, literally. His chin was bumping against something cold and soft and living, there was an arm wrapped around his lower back and he could hear the sound of feet shuffling in the darkness.

He made a little sound, a groan of discomfort. His head was pounding and he thought he might throw up.

For a second he thought he was home, and that he would open his eyes and find Carson and Sheppard and Ronon hovering around him, comforting, friendly, warm. But he remembered. He wasn't home, he wasn't safe and he wasn't with warm.

A rush of heart scoured his skin and made him sweat. But he was still shivering.

"Rodney?" The little whisper fell harshly upon his ears, he made a little sound that he had heard and suddenly the world was spinning and he was the right way up again, wide-eyed in the darkness.

He didn't like the dark.

"Where are we?"

"Underground." Ladon murmured, readjusting his hold on the boy. "One guess who chose this location."

They fell silent when a light flickered suddenly in the distance, everyone moved faster, drawn to that light like moths to a flame. Rodney hovered on the verge of awareness, wanting nothing more than to sink back into sleep and let the world deal with its own problems.

And he must have, for a moment, because the next thing he knew, they were suddenly encompassed by the light, even though it shed them of the dark, it offered no warmth and he shivered violently. He blinked blearily, Kolya was still there, and so were the soldiers, but the room was unfamiliar. It was wonky, like they'd had trouble making it.

"Why is the room wonky?" He finally asked, it was annoying him to much.

No one answered him, he watched with a small frown as a door seemed to materialize before them and they were moving through it. The corridor they entered was long, the walls studded with multiple door, each labeled and numbered, but he didn't bother reading them. He felt rather than saw everyone come to a halt. The air shifted and suddenly he was yanked forward, out of Ladon's arms.

He cried out, feeling suddenly so vulnerable and alone. His toes skimmed the cold, dirt floor and the movement made his stomach churn. Before he knew it, he was throwing up again, crying because he felt sick and gagging because of the taste.

"What do we have here?" An unfamiliar voice asked, Rodney had his eyes closed so he couldn't see the speaker, but he heard words spoken, Kolya's cold orders and then Ladon's grim complaints. He hoped Ladon would save him, but he was shoved forward and the door slammed behind him.

Standing in his own vomit, eyes burning with tears and his whole body shaking like a leaf, Rodney had never felt so alone. He could smell chemicals, not unlike the infirmary back on Atlantis, but this was different, colder.

"Now, what's wrong with ya? Hmm? Need to get ya back to fighting fit by morning." The voice kept on speaking, cold hands ridding him of his soiled shirt and pants before lifting him onto a bed. The sweat was cooling on his skin and he knew he was feverish, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, Rodney opened his eyes, looked into the brilliant white light, and passed out.


	9. No Hope No Home

**Forever End**

Chapter Nine

But the world can spin so madly And love can hurt so badly

Ladon did not cry out, he felt detached, each strike was a small explosion, muffled only by the darkness creeping to encompass his consciousness. He knew they did not want anything, no questions were asked and nothing was demanded. He peered through swollen eyes at the men surrounding him, he wished they would stop, but as he slowly began to sink lower and lower toward the ground, he knew they would not stop until he was breathless and still.

He let in a breath his through his gritted teeth, praying that it would not be his last.

~OO~

Rodney drifted all night, although night held no meaning, he saw only the white light, even when he closed his eyes. He did not sleep, his body was exhausted, yes, but his mind was wired. Weak. Dizzy with fever, he relived the dreadful sensations and fears he'd dealt with when he first come to Atlantis, body shrunk and mind declining.

He was aware, almost distantly, of someone moving around him, injecting, prodding, hurting him. He wanted to escape this unlikely torture, home would not do this to him. At home the walls whispered soothing consolations and the air tasted sweet and familiar. He knew the faces of those around him, they were constant, at times playful, mostly gentle. He wanted that, now. Now.

"Leave me alone." He whispered many times, hoping the smudge of color distorting the white light would retreat and he would be left alone. Even if he was to die.

But what had Kolya said? He needed him, he needed the Ancient gene to make something work. But something else niggled at the corner of his mind, steering him away from those thoughts and onto something else, perhaps more trivial.

How had Kolya known he was…the way he was? He hadnt appeared at all surprised when they'd come face to face, a child in the place of a man. Not at all surprised.

"Please. Please, I don't want to be here, I want to go home. I want to go home." Rodney cried, writhing against the slick, gloved hands holding him hostage. He heard muffled words, an angry retort, something snapped. He jerked out of his daze, unhappy and restless.

Sweat trickled down his temples.

Something blocked out the white light, hovering without strings above his face. He knew who it was, without even seeing his face. A cold, stale breath washed over his face and his clamped his mouth closed, turning away and trying not to cry. He didn't want to be here.

"Doctor McKay. It is time to get to work." The stale breath smothered him and he choked back a cough. "You will do as I say, Doctor McKay, or you will suffer in more ways than one." Kolya added when Rodney made no attempt to move.

He blinked blearily, trying to push the last cobwebs of sleep from his foggy mind. He rolled onto his side, his muscles ached at the sudden movement and the room spun wildly. He touched a hand to his thumping head, found a thick bandage wrapped around his temple and all the way around his head.

"I won't help you." Rodney said.

"Yes. You will." Kolya wrenched Rodney off the cot, holding his bare arm and dragging him to the door. "I will show you something, Doctor McKay, and then you will change your mind."

They walked out of what Rodney then guessed was the infirmary, he shivered in the cold, wearing only his pants, no shoes and no shirt. He blinked woozily and struggled to keep his balance. Although he needn't have bothered, Kolya was practically carrying him, he was so forceful.

"Where are we going?"

Kolya did not reply. But he did not need to, they were pushing through one of the many doors lining the corridor. The hinges squealed, scraping the inside of Rodney's head, amplifying the headache that had been lurking beneath the surface. He winced, but the sight that met his eyes quickly made him forget. He stared.

"Ladon?" The little word pushed from his lips unbidden.

It was indeed Ladon, but the man did not stir at the mention of his name. He rested on his knees, hands bound behind his back and head lolling limply, chin on his chest. Rodney could not see his face, but he saw the steady drip of blood falling from the man's nose to land on the dirt floor.

"Ladon?" Rodney's voice rose in hysteria and he made his way across the room with a feeling of dread. His defense was gone, leaving him feeling now like the protector. He knew what Kolya was going to say before he even uttered the words.

"What has he to do with this? Why did you bring him into it?" Rodney asked. He hadn't always especially trusted Ladon, but it had been more because he rarely trusted anyone. The man _had_ proved himself, to Rodney and to Atlantis. But it was always hard to trust someone based on their actions without knowing the whole story.

"He is my insurance, Doctor McKay. If you do not do what I ask, I will kill him." Kolya was suddenly standing beside the unresponsive man, a gun had materialized in his hand and he was holding it pressed to Ladon's temple.

"No! Don't kill him!" Rodney shouted desperately. If Ladon died, he would be alone. Perhaps it was selfish to think like that, but it was how he felt.

Rodney grabbed one of Ladon's shoulders and put himself between Kolya and his…friend. He cringed as the gun was forced into his cheek, pressing against his flushed skin. He didn't know why he'd done it, he certainly didn't want to die. He really didn't.

"Then you will work with us. There is not other option, Doctor McKay."

But Rodney stood steadfast. Blinking back the tears and fighting to keep himself in place, if he moved, he was sure Kolya would shoot Ladon.

"No, I…I won't help you." Rodney stuttered in panic.

He didn't see the gun swing, didn't even feel when it was pulled from his cheek. The only thing he was aware of, was when it can crashing down against his already bruised skull, hitting the bandage that did nothing to soften the blow. He realized he must have blacked out, one moment he was standing, one hand grasping Ladon's shoulder, and the next he was lying on the ground, face pushing into the dirt. Pain caressed his skull, blossoming with each second that passed. There was a hollow feeling inside, like he was missing something. Rodney lay still, trying to discern the feeling.

It took him a long moment to distinguish the sensation, or there lack of.

It was hope.

He could no longer feel it thrumming through his veins, there was no brightness to burn away the gloom. He felt empty. Hollowed out. He wished he could sink into the ground beneath him, wished it would swallow him up and suffocate him so that he could simply not exist.

"I'll do what you say." He said, and closed his eyes against the pain.

~OO~

"What is it?" Rodney asked dully, staring at the box sitting on the table before him. It did nothing to stir his interest.

"That is what you are here to figure out, Doctor McKay. If you wish, Stian may stay to assist you, otherwise, you are own your own."

"Oh."

Rodney stood awkwardly just inside the room, he watched as the soldiers that had been beating Ladon carried him into the room and let him drop to the floor. Once, Rodney would have objected to the rough treatment, Ladon was clearly hurt, and aggravating those wounds would not lead to any good in the long run. But he couldn't…just couldn't.

There was something dark inside him, where the hope had been, there was now a thick, viscous darkness that gnawed at his gut and itched his skin. He supposed it was despair. Sadness. A tainted form of hopelessness. He wondered whether the thing inside him would grow to consume him and, in turn, would it lead him to act against it? He, even at that moment, contemplated ending this.

But the child part of him reared in horror at the thought, while the adult in him saw this as reasonable. He was conflicted.

"Won't you give him something? Help him?" Rodney asked Kolya without turning around. He was staring at Ladon, sadly.

"No. You get this to work, Doctor McKay, and both of you get to live." Kolya said coldly and Rodney supposed that was all he was going to get. It was not enough.

"Incentive. He is my incentive. But what if he dies before I can even figure this out?"

"Then you had better work fast." And then he was gone.

Shoulder suddenly slumping, hands gripping his head, Rodney shuffled weakly to where Ladon lay and crumbled to his knees. The pain was unbearably, like someone was pushing needles through his skull and puncturing his brain. Each movement pushed them in a little farther.

Trying to ignore his own pain, Rodney leaned over Ladon, prodding the man's shoulder to see if he would wake. He wondered whether it was a good thing to wake him or not, but he was lonely, and it was too quiet.

Both of Ladon's eyes were black and swollen, his jaw looked lumpy and there was a thick spatter of blood coating the lower half of his face, running from both his nose and his mouth. He looked almost unrecognizable.

"Laden, wake up. Please wake up."

Rodney shook the man's shoulder again, harder this time. He thought he detected a hint of movement, but could not be sure. The overwhelming desire to sleep was enough to halt Rodney's attempts. He decided to let Ladon sleep, probably he would feel a little better after a rest, anyway. Rodney also decided that he would feel better. He was so tired. The room was stifling, the air stagnant and stale tasting.

Rodney curled up on the round, pulling his knees up to his bare chest and ignored the sting as his still bleeding face pushed into the dirt.

~OO~

Ladon felt like crap. He groaned and shifted awkwardly where he lay, wondering where he was and _why_ he was still alive.

Opening his eyes gave him no clues, he could barely see, his eyes so swollen that only a thin ray of light managed to filter through. His body was one massive ache, he supposed his ribs were broken, or at least fractured, they crackled with every little breath. One of his arms felt funny, kind of numb, and with a sinking feeling he realized it must have been dislocated.

Rage engulfed him. So strong and blinding that he could no longer simply lie there. He struggled to his feet, hissing through his teeth in pain, but if he was anything, it was stubborn. The room swayed and bucked, but he stayed upright by clinging to the wall and sliding along.

There was a little mumbled word from across the room. Ladon looked back and saw Rodney, the boy was sleeping, but it did not look peaceful. The bandage around his head was stained red, just seeing it fueled Ladon's anger. How could they harm a child, even a child who had once been an adult. Just seeing how Rodney acted, how he spoke and the way he responded to the events around him clearly told that he was no longer a man. Ladon could see that Rodney was a child.

He hobbled over to the little form, knelt on his good knee, and touched a hand to the boys forehead. He sighed, Rodney was feverish, skin slick with sweat and forehead burning high. He woke the boy with a little, gentle, slap to the cheek.

"Rodney, can you hear me?" He asked quietly, aware that the boy might not be all that lucid. Indeed, the boy blinked up at him owlishly, lips pursed.

"Carson?" His small voice cracked. Ladon sighed once more, shoulders slumping.

"No, Rodney, its Ladon. Do you remember where we are?" He said. He kept his hand on the boy's shoulder, hoping to keep him attached to reality. "Does anything hurt?"

"My head." Rodney muttered, one pudgy hand reaching up to gingerly prod the bandage. He winced but said nothing else.

"Alright. We need to get out of here." Ladon deduced after a moment, he pushed himself to his feet and went to the door, staring at it for a moment. There was no handle, no hinges, nothing to help them. He went to the table, there was a box, wires and panels marred its otherwise smooth surface. It looked to Laden like some kind of computer console, vaguely resembling the ones he had seen during his time on Atlantis. He pulled at one of the wires and fiddled with it curiously.

"We can't get out of here." Rodney said. "Kolya will kill you if I don't figure his box thing out…" Rodney trailed off, he sounded so tried, Ladon looked at him with worry.

"Don't worry about me, Rodney. Kolya will kill me whether you figure this out or not. Focus on getting out of here, or at least, surviving until your team comes to get you."

Ladon did not like the empty way with which Rodney spoke. He supposed he should not have been so blunt, children did not cope well in life or death situations, and alarming him would not help him focus. But there had to be some part of the of Rodney still in there, because the boy did not seem scared or frightened. He lay curled on his side, turned away from Ladon, and did not move.

He had been through a lot, Ladon knew, but he sorely hoped that the boy would not give up completely.

~OO~

It was a long time before Rodney moved more than an inch. He went to the box, eyes dull and uninterested, and pulled himself onto the stool beside Ladon, who sat propped on the table, one arm sitting limply in his lap while he used his good hand to organize the crystals and wires. He saw a pattern, of sorts, but without the Ancient gene, he was useless.

"How are you feeling?" He asked Rodney.

"Fine." The reply was curt, short, a total lie.

"Would you like me to help? I do know something about this technology, not a lot, but enough."

"No, I'm fine…just…just let me work."

They sat in silence, Ladon struggling to remain upright while he watched the child work. He marveled at the small fingers moving with speed over the wires, searching out where each one went to, what they were each used for. And then he paused, eyes closed tight, and the box began to throb with a pale blue glow. This did not seem to make Rodney happy, if anything, he looked even paler, a little sad. The box whirred and made an odd chirping sound.

"This isn't what I'm used to, this is old technology, I mean, older than old. Its like…a first generation computer, you think its great when you have nothing else, but when you get the next version, you kick this one out, realize that it really cant do anything and get on with your life." Rodney said, confusing Ladon.

"What do you mean? What has that to do with this device?"

Rodney sighed and rubbed his head. "It means that anything I try to do with this…this box, is going to overwork it. I have a feeling that it was thrown out for a reason."

"And you can tell all this, just from looking at it?" Ladon asked, bewildered.

"Kind of." Rodney looked pained.

"Do you know what it does? Can you fix it?" Ladon said, he was curious, more than a little desperate. Even though he knew he was going to die anyway, he hoped Rodney managed to get out.

"Maybe. I need some tools, hand me that…thing, the long thing with the pick at the end." Ladon did as he was bade, and watched the boy dive into the device and pry something out. It looked like a little piece of steel with tiny wires coiled around it. "And this, is how we'll find out."

He rolled onto his stomach and slid off the stool, he slid the little steel piece into a computer across the room and watched with his chin rested on his palm as a strange mass of symbols filled the screen. Rodney froze.

"Crap."

"What? What is it?" Ladon followed him across the room, holding his dislocated arm tightly. He could make no sense of the symbols and watched the boy's expression for any clues.

"Its…I think its…how do I explain this. Er, say if you brought this device through the Stargate to Atlantis, turned it on, and sat back, it would steal all the information from the surrounding technology."

"So it takes the information stored on the devices around it."

"Yes, and while doing so, it also fries the power sources, scrambling any connections and firing viruses in all directions."

"A weapon." Ladon stated, voice calm but insides churning.

"Of sorts, in the wrong hands."

"Then the question is, do we want to fix it for Kolya? Do we want to give him this weapon?" Ladon asked seriously.

"If I don't, he'll kill you." Rodney replied softly, looking down.

"I already told you not to worry about me, Rodney. Do what you think you have to do to survive."

"How valiant of you."

Ladon chuckled, but forced himself to stop when his ribs groaned in protest. "Not valiant, but you are worth more than me, Rodney-"

"That's not-"

"It is. And I would willingly give my live over yours, if it meant you could go home." Ladon finished quietly.

Rodney did not know what to say, he felt guilty, sad, tired. This man would die, just so he would live. This man was braver than he was.

Rodney hopped away from the computer and went back to the device, he would fix this so Ladon would never get a chance to prove he was no liar.

~OO~

Five days passed, uneventful, slow.

They ate the meager food that was brought to them and turned Stian away when the man came knocking, they did not want him reporting to Kolya that they knew what the device did and that, soon, they would be able to make it work. They would use anything to give them the upper hand.

Rodney did not sleep, he told Ladon he did, saying he took naps during the times the man slipped into unconsciousness. Perhaps Ladon guessed, but he never said anything.

It was a good thing Rodney had lost his hope, otherwise he might have been despairing

Rodney sucked on his finger, the copper taste of blood filling his mouth. He sighed and glanced at Ladon, who was, at that moment, fast asleep with his cheek pressing into the table. Rodney grimaced at the awkward angle of Ladon's arm, his eyes had gone down a little, but they were still as black as night.

There was a loud bang and the door burst open, Rodney glance quickly at Ladon but the man did not stir. He looked back to find Kolya standing in the doorway, looking stormy and monstrous.

"I've given you enough time, Doctor McKay. More than enough." Kolya pulled his gun. "You will have it finished by the time the sun is setting, or he will die." He pressed the gun to the back of Ladon's head, this time he woke, flinching when he felt the barrel against his skull. His eyes rolled to Rodney, seeking. But Rodney could not speak and managed only to vomit up a few words to Kolya.

"I'll have it done, just…just don't shoot him."

~OO~

"They're not here."

"How can you tell?" Sheppard looked at Ronon, brow raised in disbelief.

"No prints, nothing to suggest anyone has come and moved away from the 'gate in a long time." Ronon replied easily. He motioned vaguely to the ground around them.

Sheppard was skeptical, but he nodded. He fiddled with his P-90, hefting it in his hands before letting it drop back at his side. He nodded again and turned to the nervous looking Radek, the small man kept shooting nervous glances around him, as if waiting for an invisible foe to sneak up behind him. He was knee deep in the DHD, but so far had come up with nothing. Sheppard feared the worst.

"They wiped the memory, clean, very clean, we will not be finding the address they gated to, I am sorry, Colonel." Radek called gently, his tone gloomy.

Sheppard kicked a rock in anger, giving a sharp grunt of anger. He wanted to kill Kolya, wrap his hands around the bastard's throat until he felt the satisfying crunch and he let out his last, shuddering breath.

"Keep working on it, we need to find him, its been too long."

Radek made a helpless gesture. "It will not work, Colonel. Whoever has done this made sure to wipe it clean. I am sor-"

"No," Sheppard stepped over to the smaller man, who shrank back. Neither realizing that those exact actions had been taken days before. "No, it _will _work, you will make it work."

~OO~

"Good. You have just under five hours, Doctor McKay. Be ready." Kolya pressed the gun against Ladon's head once last time, making the man wince, before he disappeared, the door slamming behind him.

Rodney watched him go, and then turned back to the device. He hadnt told Kolya it was ready, he'd even managed to improve it, he thought so, at least. He couldn't be sure of anything anymore, his mind was sliding, after all.

He avoided Ladon's stare.

"Are you really going to do it?" He spoke so softly that Rodney wondered whether he had spoken at all.

"Yes." He whispered. "And then we'll live."

Ladon shook his head, he felt even worse, if that were possible. He was finding it hard to breathe, his ribs shifting painfully and his dislocated arm and shoulder were now completely numb. But he hid this from Rodney, he had to get the boy out of here, not matter what it took.

The hours went by relatively fast, when compared to the past five days. Rodney did not stop working on the box, even though they both knew it was finished. Ladon wondered whether Rodney was working on it simply because he wanted to keep busy, or because he was trying something else.

"We need a plan." He said after a time.

Rodney bobbed his head but he made no attempt to comply. "Right." He muttered and went back to work.

In his mind he knew one thing. Ladon would not die.

Ladon would not die.

He would make sure of it.

He promised himself that Ladon would not die.


	10. Cold

**Forever End**

Chapter Ten

And stories end so sadly But this is not the end

It was time, Ladon supposed, and he was simply waiting for Kolya to come for them.

He looked around the room, paused at the little figure hunched behind the box-like device and then let his gaze swivel to the door. His death would come through that door, a gun needing only a single bullet. Ladon sighed and closed his eyes, sinking back into the wall. He listened to the beating of his heart, his pulse fluttering and the blood rushing in his ears.

The door opened and he flinched, he noticed that Rodney did not turn, instead his small hands seemed to tremble as he quickly replaced a panel of the box and screwed it back into place. A look of consternation flitted across his young face.

Two men came through the door, neither was Kolya. The taller of the two was an elderly man, Ladon recognized him as the doctor who had 'treated' Rodney. The other was Stian, the young scientist who had wiped the memory of the DHD. He looked vaguely angry and sauntered quickly across the room to Rodney, sparing no glance for Ladon.

"What do you want?" Ladon gritted out, forcing himself to stand.

"Kolya had ordered us to see to your wounds before he tests the device. Here, sit down, I see your arm is out of place." The Doctor said and Ladon complied, albeit hesitantly.

He looked to Rodney and Stian as the Doctor prodded and poked his shoulder, it hurt, but he did not want to show any weakness. Despite his best efforts, he let out a sharp shout as his arm was yanked out and back into place. He swayed on his seat, sweating profusely.

"What were you doing?" Stian was saying across the room. "You do realize that if you've sabotaged this Ancient Device, Kolya will kill you?"

Rodney gulped visibly. He began tapping his pudgy fingers on the table top and Ladon could not help but begin to feel nervous, clearly Rodney had been caught doing something. Something he had wished to keep under wraps. He watched uneasily, wishing above all that they were not in this situation.

"N-Nothing. I was j-just finishing it. It's done." Rodney sputtered.

"What did you do to it? Did you split the connections? Mess with the wiring? Tell me now, and I'll not tell Kolya of your deception." Stian threatened. When Rodney said nothing he began prying off the panel and peered with narrowed eyes at the innards of the device. With a silent snarl at Rodney, Stian pulled a small, cable wrapped parcel that had been partially hidden inside. He held it close to his face, inspecting it before shoving it into his front coat pocket.

"What," he asked. "Is this?"

"Hmmphslask." Rodney mumbled, chin dipping to rest on his chest.

"What?"

"Its…its not anything, just a, ah, an energy calculator. Nothing to get angry about." He added, flinching back when Stian advanced.

"Then it will do no damage to remove it, will it?" Stian said and patted the pocket over his heart.

Ladon watched on impassively, he wondered what the small object had been and why Rodney looked so thoroughly horrified that it had been removed. Perhaps it _had_ been an energy calculator, but he suspected not.

"I…I suppose not." Rodney agreed reluctantly. He met Ladon's gaze and tried to tell him something without words, but Ladon was in no condition and his eyes quickly slid away.

"I'll take both of you to the testing room, Kolya is waiting." Rodney frowned, he hopped off his stool and darted over to where Ladon stood, who closed his eyes against the rising tide of nausea.

"Wait, wait, wait! Why do you need us? Why do we have to be there?" Rodney screeched, Ladon felt a small hand clutch his own. "Shouldn't we be allowed to leave? I want to go home!"

"Kolya's orders, you will both be coming. If something is wrong with this device, if you have somehow sabotaged it or it doesn't work, then you will have to deal with the repercussions."

"But-"

"There is no point arguing with me, Doctor McKay, it is not up to me." Stian said quickly. Ladon heard footsteps and then the harsh sound of the door being pulled open. Rodney's hand trembled in his own and he grasped it tightly.

He opened his eyes to look at him.

"What happens, happens. If you get the chance, run." He told the boy and heaved himself to stand on unsteady feet.

They were led from their temporary prison and prodded down the long corridor. Stain took the lead, with the Doctor and several guards behind. Ladon glanced behind them, caught a glimpse of the doorway that led to the ladder, before he was unceremoniously pushed forward, he stumbled and righted himself only a sheer moment before one of the guards was about to strike him. He glared before hurrying along with the boy.

Rodney held the Ancient box under one arm, he looked blank, his face sheet white and his lips pressed into a firm line. Ladon decided that he had never seen anyone look so bleak. Hopeless. Lost.

Guilt welled up, a never ending fountain that left his already weakened body gasping for air. He gripped Rodney's hand with renewed determination and stood a little straighter. The least he could do was try.

~OO~

"You do realize, Doctor McKay, that if you have for some reason chosen to sabotage this technology, I would feel obligated to kill you?" Kolya asked when they entered the room.

His voice reverberated around them and the cold, meaningful silence that followed was enough to send a shudder running through him. He wanted so badly to step back from the tall, imposing man threatening them.

"I realize." Rodney grumbled at his side, a small, pale shadow of his former self. There could be no one in the room that did not notice this, the usually abrasive man was silent and withdrawn. They expected more.

"Then you do not mind if we turn it on? Test it?" Kolya asked with a guarded expression, he was testing Rodney.

"No." Rodney replied softly, looking at his feet. Ladon could feel his hand shaking, a fine tremor that rolled up his arm and choked the breath in his throat before cascading over his tongue and past his cracked lips.

Kolya nodded to Stian and the young man stepped forward, grasped the box and carried it over to the center of the room where he sat it on the ground. There were several computers littering the ground, data danced across their screens. Sparing a wary glance at Kolya, Stian stayed close to the man, as if he would be sheltered from anything or anyone. Ladon was curious as to why the young man chose to stay loyal to such a dangerous man, but then, he had to admit that he himself had once been in that same position.

There was a tense pause in the room, the dozens of people, guards and scientists alike, were frozen in building anticipation. Ladon knew they had been waiting a long time for this, they would use this device, send it through the Stargate to Atlantis where they would then move onto the next phase, a complete take over.

But Ladon saw a flaw, having the means to scramble all technology did not protect them from a physical assault from the Atlantean soldiers. There would of course be a fight, Ladon knew how protective the Atlantean's were of their home, and he really didn't blame them.

He hoped that this one mistake would not be noticed by Kolya, that the man was blind to that particular problem. Unfortunately, he sorely doubted it. Kolya was smart. Cold, ruthless, volatile. Intelligent.

"Turn it on, Doctor McKay. Unless you would rather Ladon do it?"

"No." Rodney walked over to the box, Ladon watched with apprehension. Would it do something disastrous? Would they all be burned alive? Suffocated? What had Rodney done to the device that had everyone on edge?

The bodies waited, silent, faceless. Ladon leaned back with the rest of them, eyes intent on the small figure moving awkwardly toward the device they had been waiting for. This was their opportunity.

Rodney's finger hovered over the box, palm down, fingers splayed. He drew in a breath and lowered that hand. The anticipation, the high expectations were lost as the room breathed as one, the box began to glow and thrum. Emitting a pale blue light.

No one spoke. They still waited, but eyes began to roll toward Kolya, a man who killed without qualms. Stian frowned.

"Give it a moment." Rodney murmured as he back away. Ladon took a hold of the hand that wormed its way back into his, the little hand was clammy.

The hum of the box turned into the whirr, the light pulsed quicker, and suddenly the computers surrounding it began to flicker, little zaps filled the space between them, as if they were trying to touch each other. Kolya's usually impassive face twitched and suddenly he was smiling. It was not a nice smile.

The little zaps turned into a steady stream of electric bolts, blue and yellow and white, writhing from one computer to the next until, with a massive, almost human scream, the computers were blown apart.

Ladon felt a little tug on his hand and looked to Rodney, the boy was motioning carefully toward the unexpectedly unguarded door. He took the hint. But while they were edging toward the door, Ladon chanced a glance back, seeking out the still smiling form of Kolya, beside him was Stian. He blinked and then everything slowed and, in one crystalline moment the stillness was destroyed and chaos reigned.

"Ladon!" Rodney shouted, his voice high, frantic.

But Ladon was caught. He watched with transfixed horror as Stian, standing unobtrusively across the room, exploded.

It was the clear to Ladon that the blast was produced from the small device he had pocketed from Rodney, the little, wire wrapped device that he had slipped into the pocket over his heart. One moment he was there and the next the entire occupants of the room were covered in a fine, and not so fine, spatter of red. Kolya was thrown off his feet, others were stumbling against the wall and some were frozen in shock. Confusion.

Ladon's ears were filled with a strange emptiness, he could hear only a high pitched whine and a far off, strangely muffled shout. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand but recoiled when he smeared more red across his face.

Squinting, he turned away from the scene and let Rodney, who he was shocked to see what also covered in red and gore, lead them from the room. His hearing was slowly growing clearer, now he could hear raised voices, panicked shouts and angry retorts. But it was too unreal and cloudy for Ladon to pay much attention.

The door closed behind them and they were tossed into a thick silence. They began to run, heedless of their earlier injuries now that they had hope. Freedom was close, they ran and ran until soon they could hear their footsteps scuffing the ground and their harsh breathing in their ears. It cracked the silence and made it easier to think. They weren't alone, they could watch each others back, pull each other along.

Ladon tripped and stumbled but regained his footing. He had paid little attention to where they were headed, but now he realized, as Rodney looked from one door to the next, that he really had no idea which way to go. Because, of course, Rodney had been barely conscious during their arrival. And so it was up to Ladon.

He took the lead then, and Rodney followed close behind, constantly checking behind them to make sure the coast was clear. It was, Ladon wondered at that, but vaguely. Surely Kolya wasn't about to let them escape. Unless he hadn't noticed their disappearance yet.

The semi-familiar door rushed up to greet them with an awkward silence. They stared at it for a moment, chests rising and falling rapidly, eyes wide. They had come this far, they only hoped they could make it to the end. Where ever that was.

Ladon pushed with his fingertips, slowly, making sure there were no soldiers on the other side. He needn't have bothered, however, because beyond that doorway there was darkness. It was so complete that, when they crept inside and closed the door behind them, they were smothered by it.

Ladon could hear Rodney nearby and reached out blindly until he smacked into his arm, without another moment wasted, he dragged the boy forward and flailed about for the ladder he knew would be far ahead, but was sorely hoping was closer. They walked in the pitch black for what felt like hours, but Ladon knew could only have been minutes. Their feet pounded the damp smelling earth beneath them, Ladon could feel the draft of cold air pressing upon them and pressed on. He knew they should be getting closer.

At last his hand hit something hard. There was a resounding thunk of metal and pain wracked his hand. He grasped it greedily, the hope emerging from the darkness of his mind was overwhelming. Almost sickly.

"Hurry." He wheezed, he could feel his broken and cracked ribs shifting, crackling as he moved. "Climb up as quickly as you can." He pulled Rodney's hand over to his own so that he could feel the rung, even slicked with grime and who knew what else, the boy managed to get a hold and begin the climb.

Ladon followed suit, casting one last, useless look behind him and giving a little grunt of triumph as he too began to climb. There was no one following them.

It was a hard climb, the constant fear of the unknown, how far up were they? How long would it take? Would they fall to their death? Hung over them like a dark cloud. Without the aid of sight they were practically insubstantial. Two nothings moving through a sea of nothing. They'd be swept away for sure, Ladon was thinking, kept on thinking, right up until he heard the dull thunk of a skull hitting something hard and a little groan of pain floated back to him.

"Rodney? Rodney, can you feel the opening? Hurry, we need to get out of here before they notice we're gone!" He called up to the boy.

~OO~

"Yeah, yes." Rodney sniffled, he wiped his wet cheeks and tried to focus.

He was so scared. So tired. He could smell the blood, a metallic, sickening scent that flooded his senses every time he drew in a breath. And he was crying. Had been crying since they'd managed to sneak out from under Kolya's nose.

He'd just killed someone.

He'd killed him.

His fingers scrambled numbly above him, he could feel the cool metal and the bumps and crevices that could only be the hinges. He ran his palm over them, but his concentration was quickly lagging. His nose was blocked and his head ached. He wanted so badly to just let go and simply…fall…

But Ladon is telling him what to do. Feel for the handle, there should be a handle. Large, near the center. It was round and, when he stretched out his small fingers to wrap around it, it gave a little, twisting to one side.

He continued that movement and there was a deep groan. But even with the latch open, he had no way of pushing it open. It was too heavy and he was too small. Too small and pointless and useless.

He sniffled weakly and hung his head.

After a moment of regaining his composure, Rodney looked down to where he could not see Ladon and coughed to clear his throat.

"I-I cant open it. It's too heavy."

He heard a little shuffle, and then he was being pressed against the bars as Ladon drew level with him. He could feel each huff of the man's breath through his chest, he turned so his ear was resting near Ladon's heart, so he could hear the beat. And in that moment, so painfully, heartbreakingly much, he wanted Carson.

Carson.

With thoughts of Carson came the barrage of memories, the feeling of family, a father, a friend, a protector. Carson was unbreakable. He was consistent. He was everything.

The sobs tore his throat, the tears burned his eyes. He knew then was not the time to break down, but he was out of control, he could no more stop the flood than he could stop Kolya. Even if he'd wanted to.

Ladon said nothing, Rodney could feel his muscles straining, the fine tremor running through his body as he heaved. There was an almost deafening groan from above and then they were being showered in a cloud of white. It was bitterly cold and Ladon pushed the breath from Rodney's lungs as he huddled over him, pressing him tighter to the ladder.

After a moment, when the torrent of snow had somewhat abated, Ladon shuffled a little. Rodney, who had closed his eyes and buried his face in his arms, blinked in surprise and looked up.

He could see the moon.

It was shrouded in clouds as dark as hell. But it was still there, peeking out, watching them with a silent, misty glow. Rodney drew in a breath and pulled himself up the next rung. He couldn't believe it. They were going to escape. They could go home and he could be safe. Warm. Safe.

Safe.

The air was frigid but he pushed forward, he grabbed the top of the open latch and desperately, almost blindly, dragged himself over the edge. He landed with a grunt, face first in the snow with his head swimming unpleasantly. But he was out, and he could feel the moon caressing his bare skin.

There was the sound of feet crunching in the snow and Ladon was crouching beside him, one arm tucked protectively against his stomach while the other he rested on Rodney's shoulder. It was in that moment, a pure, crystalline moment, when a thought struck Rodney so hard that he collapsed back into the snow.

"I lost Sheppard's jumper." His voice was muffled by the snow, but he didn't need to hear it, the fact was that he had nothing of home left with him. Only the dull throb of wanting that brought with it memories of being held in warm, solid arms. "I've lost them."

Ladon was dragging him to his feet, Rodney did not struggle, but neither did he make any effort. They begun the slow trek toward the Stargate. Rodney had no idea how long it would take. He barely remembered their arrival, it was but a distant, foggy memory. He pushed one foot in front of the other. One after the other. One after the other. Moving. Moving. Moving.

The hollow, gnawing feeling inside him was widening. Rodney pondered, it could have been the cold, it was numbing his extremities, but it could just as easily have been the guilt and hopelessness. The wounds were still fresh.

"What's the plan?" He asked numbly and without looking up.

Ladon huffed, breath frosting in the air.

"We'll get to the 'gate. But, knowing Kolya, it'll be surrounded by soldiers. Our only hope is to somehow draw them away."

"And then what?"

"We can either take them out, or we can run, hide, backtrack and make a run for the 'gate."

"How are we supposed to take them out, exactly? I'm the size of small dog and you're full of broken bones. No offense, Ladon, but I'm sorely doubting our chances of sur-survial." Rodney sniffed disdainfully. He had to force himself not to cry. He wanted to, oh, how he wanted to. But he couldn't. And he wouldn't.

~OO~

They walked for most of the night, stumping along together with their strength waning. Rodney glanced often at the moon, with his little chest wracked with a painful cough and his fingers stinging and itching. He kept clenching and unclenching them. He didn't want to be this cold, how could he survive.

It was when he closed his eyes, vaguely felt his head droop onto his chest, and the soft, neither warm, neither cold crunchy whiteness hit his cheek did he realize that he was exhausted.

He tried to move but his limbs were sluggish, betraying him until he lay there, still, silent. He didn't even have the energy to cry. Something pushed against his back a moment before he felt himself being rolled over onto something tinged with warmth.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry Rodney. I didn't realize." What didn't he realize? What was happening?

Rodney frowned. But his eyes were glued shut and he couldn't ask Ladon what was wrong, he wanted to, though. He felt guilty that Ladon was carrying him, but he was so tired, so damn tired.

He drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

~OO~

Ladon drops him. An he looks up in surprise, did Kolya find them? Is something wrong?

But there were no answers visible to him, they were still in the white, tree lined landscape. The moon hovered above, but this time she was vacant, sightless. Rodney opened his mouth to protest, but he caught side of Ladon's expression.

"I need to get out of here, you understand, your team will never let me live, not after I gave Kolya the means to get through to Atlantis." Ladon said, he wrung his hands nervously.

Rodney gaped. "No, Laden, I'll tell them, I'll tell them you helped me!"

He scrambled through the snow but his feet did not want to seem to work. Ladon was backing away, looking through the trees fearfully, as if Kolya was about to sneak up behind him. And then he was gone and Rodney was alone.

All alone. He began to cry, but his tears turned to ice before they could leave his lashes.

~OO~

"Rodney? Rodney? Can you hear me? Wake up."

Tapping his cheek, constant, annoying. Rodney frowned, puzzled. Hadn't Ladon left him? He shivered violently, opening his eyes slowly.

The face hovering over him was blurred, and he panicked. Crying out against the pain wracking his body, he writhed on the cold ground. His whole body was covered in pins and needles.

"Rodney! Calm down, you need to calm down."

It took him a moment to gain his bearings, he blinked blearily up at the strangely bright, white sky above. When had the sun risen? Ladon had backed away a little, giving him some space now that he'd calmed down, although his chest was still heaving and the shivering was growing in intensity.

"Where are we-we?" He asked through chattering teeth.

"Far enough away from Kolya that hopefully he won't find us. But close enough to the 'gate that we can get there and back in no time." Ladon said.

"Oh. So-so do we…" Rodney tried to ask, but the shivering grew too violent. He danced in little circles over the ground, the shudders would run first up his legs and curl his fingers, they moved to his thighs and clenched his gut, seizing his arms as well as his shoulders. And when they reached his chest he began to cough and hack, his head spinning as he tried to draw in a breath.

Ladon rolled him onto his side and he gagged, but nothing came up and in the end he settled for wheezing awkwardly through his constricted throat.

Ladon rubbed his hand over his back in circles. Again and again. It was when he began to drift off to sleep that Ladon finally stopped. He wrapped his shirt tighter around the boy and pulled him up into his lap. Rodney sniffed, he didn't feel good.

It was warmer in Ladon's arms, but he was cold to the bone and nothing would ever warm him again. He sank into sleep without another word.

~OO~

Ladon watched the boy drift off to sleep uneasily. He supposed he shouldn't let him sleep, the cold was notorious in that way, one you closed your eyes, you might never open them again. But it would be easier for him if he rested, the cold was unknown while you were unconscious.

He clutched the boy to his chest and tried to share his body heat, it was the least he could do, knowing he couldn't stay long.

He had a plan, but he would have to leave Rodney while he went, the idea left him feeling uneasy, but he knew it would have to be done if they were to get out of there. He sighed.

Rodney's face was flushed, cheeks and forehead dripping with sweat and his breathing was ragged and rattled deep in his chest. He wrapped his jumper even tighter around the little form and stood. They were sheltered by an overhanging rock jutting out between the trees. They were protected from the wind and the little snowflakes drifting down from the white sky.

Feeling guilty and worried, Ladon laid his little bundle between two rocks and backed away. He pulled the collar of his shirt up around his neck and set out, heading for the Stargate. He wished he had a weapon, he could take down the soldiers who were no doubt protecting the 'gate and they'd be free to go where they pleased.

He didn't hear the little, lonely cry as Rodney woke alone. Nor the wretched sobs that wracked his frail body as he stared up at the pale sky.


	11. Sweet Oblivion

**Forever End**

Chapter Eleven

You still have my heartache And I have your sweater

Blinking, Rodney gazed at the white sky with a mixture of sadness and guilt. The hollow emptiness was threatening to overwhelm him, so much so that he could feel himself slipping back into the oblivion of sleep.

When awareness did return, it was in fits and starts. The pain in his small body was gone, as was the feeling of cold. He wasn't shivering now. He wasn't shivering…

Heavy eyed, he rolled his gaze to the surrounding forest, coated white with a fresh blanket of snow. He could not comprehend why he, too, was not buried in snow. The unfamiliar jumper covering him answered his thoughts, rustling ever so slightly as he breathed. In and out. In and out.

"Where is the cold?" He asked the air, but he didn't hear his voice, so breathy that it made no sound at all.

Wriggling his toes and fingers, or at least, he tried to. They did not move. Everything felt leaden, heavy. He let his eyes drift shut, it was better to sleep. Sleep and sink into the waiting arms of the unknown. There was no blood there. There was no blood and there was no death. Nothing but a sweet oblivion.

His eyes flashed open. His back arched as he struggled to draw a breath, clawing uselessly and weakly at the jumper encasing him. His throat constricted, lungs screaming for air that would not come. Bile rose, tears dripped down his cheeks and snot tickled his nose. The panic was mind numbing, he couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't live.

But death was something he'd fought thus far, and he would not give up so easily.

It was only then, when his eyes rolled back and he sagged boneless to the ground, did Rodney realize that fighting was utterly useless.

~OO~

Rodney became dimply aware of something hitting his back.

Thump.

Thump.

_Thump._

He didn't know how long it lasted, only that with every whack a little air crawled into his throat. It was a painless thing. Lying with his eyes narrowed, barely seeing, yet still there. He knew that it was Ladon. Knew that the snow had started to fall again. He knew that the small, harsh little words were coming from Ladon and that the tears falling were his. He knew all of this with a calm sort of clarity, like he didn't care, didn't feel.

Perhaps he didn't _want_ to feel. He certainly didn't care.

"Breathe. Come on, Rodney. Just breathe."

_No. _He wanted to say. But the word dried on his lips and he let it fall unheard.

Breathing was hard. Because, while his body was screaming in agony, demanding air, his mind was whispering, coaxing him to simply give up.

He would never feel pain again. He would never see Kolya. He would never fear. Never cry. Never scream.

He would never see Carson again…

His body jerked. One, violent movement that tore him from Ladon's hands and had him puking up the clear bile that was choking him. He lay gasping, eyes wide. He could feel it. The fear, the panic, the pain and the grief. He could feel it all tens times worse than he could ever have imagined. But he _would_ live through it, because he would see Carson again. He _would_ go home.

"Rodney? Can you hear me? Answer me." Ladon pulled him onto his back to look at him. He squeezed Rodney's chin between his fingers as the boy focused.

"Ye-yes." He croaked.

"Okay. Okay." Ladon ran a hand down his face. "Just stay awake, can you do that?"

"Yeah." The word ghosted his lips.

Ladon laid a hand on his forehead, it felt slightly warm and clammy, but nice compared to the cold around them. His lips were muttering something that even he could not comprehend. Ladon did not seem to notice, though, so he supposed that was a good thing. Thoughts began to collect again, trickling through the cracks until it appeared, somewhat half formed and smelling vaguely of failure, an idea that might just allow him the chance to see Carson. One last time.

"Ladon…." He draw in a ragged breath, steeling himself. "Ladon, I have an idea."

Ladon looked down at him, his brow knitting into a frown. Perhaps he was wondering whether to listen to the boy who'd almost just choked to death. He said nothing, though, and gave a brief nod of acceptance.

"I think….well, this might not work, and unless we're quick, we could be caught, or worse…" Neither had to voice what 'or worse' meant. "I think…I think we need to get a message to Atlantis. But they won't open the iris without the code. So, I was thinking that we could toss in something, they would see that there was no threat. Then we go and do it again, tossing a note through, and hopefully they'll have the iris open and won't hesitate to come save us."

Ladon gave an uneasy little wriggle of his shoulders, fidgeting with something in his lap. Rodney narrowed his eyes.

"Where'd you get the gun?"

Ladon looked down, as if suddenly noticing it. He flushed ever so slightly but remained stoic, as if he felt he had to defend himself.

"I managed to lure two of Kolya's men away from the Stargate, overpowered them and took their weapons." Ladon said and pushed one of the guns into Rodney's quaking grip. But Rodney dropped the thing as if it burned.

"What? How the hell did you overpower them?" Rodney asked, incredulous.

"I can fight." Ladon muttered, and he pushed away from the snowy ground to stand, eyeing the white forest around them. He looked tired and, after recent events, much older and wizened. A new bruise had blossomed across one side of his face, over the older ones, it puffed his eye and mouth to one side.

"I see." Rodney muttered. He snuffled, wiping his runny nose on the Laden's jacket. His body felt thick and chunky, as if he'd been torn apart and put together roughly, uneven joints and cracked bones protruding at every angle.

But he made himself stand, chest rattling with each breath.

"So…um, the note. Do you have-"

"I have nothing. Kolya made sure to take everything but the clothes on my back." Ladon said, simmering down. He slouched over to Rodney and crouched beside the boy.

"Alright, we'll have to think of something else…er…" Rodney muttered, patting the pockets of his pants in thought. He froze, a flicker of something, it might have been hope, began to glow inside him. His fingers tingled as he pulled the wrinkled piece of notepad from his pocket.

It was a drawing. One he'd scrawled during one of his many stays in the infirmary. It depicted the Stargate, with a series of small figures standing around it. Names had been scribbled above their head, the team, his family. Reading each name was like shoving an icepick deeper and deeper into his heart, until he had to look away. Carefully folding the paper back up, he pushed it back into his pocket and wiped the blur from his eyes. He was too tried to cry.

"Okay, so we have the note." Rodney puffed out a shaky breath. "Now one of us have to distract the guards, and the other has to dial Atlantis."

They looked at each other for a moment, it was no question, really.

"I'll lead them away from you, just be quick, there's no guarantee that I can keep them occupied for long." Ladon said flatly.

Rodney shivered, he hoped Ladon wouldn't do something stupid. But he had to trust the man, he had thus far, was there really any reason to stop now?

No. But perhaps he was hesitant, he didn't want to risk the man's life for a plan that ultimately, might fail. Failure was something Rodney did not cope well with. His stomach clenched painfully simply thinking about it.

"Lets just get this over with, 'kay? I want to go home." Rodney muttered, stumbling forward. Ladon nodded and led the way.

They stumbled through the snow, constantly throwing wary glances over their shoulders and through the trees around them. They knew they stood out starkly in their pale surroundings. But there was really nothing for it, they needed to get on with the plan.

When they arrived at the 'gate they hunkered down behind a tall, hollow tree, watching the dark smudges of color as the guards stood clustered together around the DHD. Rodney peered cautiously over the trees roots, shivering despite the abrupt, dizzying surge of adrenaline that caught his small body in its grasp. His fingers began to twitch, so he shoved them under his armpits and squeezed.

God, he was nervous.

"There is only four of them, surprising considering that surely Kolya must know we're going to try to leave this planet. I'll lead them- Rodney, stay awake, okay? You need to stay awake if we're going to do this."

Rodney flinched, he hadn't realized that he'd closed his eyes. Hadn't even felt the rough texture of the tree biting into his cheek until Ladon shook his shoulder. He blinked owlishly up at the man, feeling his flushed cheeks burn with fever and the trickle of sweat running down the back of his neck.

Ladon watching him for a few moments, still but for the little rise and fall of his chest as he breathed slowly through his nose. Rodney wondered how he could appear so calm and composed. He felt like his innards were filled with a mass of writhing snakes because, really, he didn't want to die like this. He wanted to die surrounded by people he loved and….

"I don't want to die." The words left his lips unbidden. He hadn't meant to voice it, hadn't wanted to say it aloud. But once they were out, they stayed out.

"You wont." Ladon was watching Rodney with something akin to pity. But Rodney did not want pity.

"Go and distract the bastards, Ladon." Rodney ordered wearily and pushed himself into the hollow of the tree.

"Right. But take this- _no_, take it. Rodney, if I don't come back then you have to protect yourself."

"If you don't come back then I'm dead anyway." Rodney replied tiredly and without looking up. The gun lay untouched at his feet.

Ladon simply nodded and walked away.

And Rodney was left alone. Oh, how he hated to be alone. It was like a chasm opened up before him, threatening to swallow him whole and without a trace. Usually someone would come and rescue him, but he was waiting for the day that no one did.

There was shouting and gun fire. Crunched footsteps and howls of pain. The sounds faded, slowly, the distance growing. Rodney did not look until he was sure the distance was great. He inched out from his hidey hole and crawled to peek around the base of the tree. No one.

He had to move.

He was running before he knew it. Slamming into the DHD hard enough to make him fall back into the snow, feeling desperate and anxious, he threw a worried glance to where Ladon had run, but quickly began punching in the address for Atlantis.

The Stargate whooshed to life with its sea of rippling blue. It was a beautiful sight, one he gazed at for a moment before remembering that he was suppose to be doing something. With a guilty shrug, the boy hurried over to the simmering pool of blue and stooped, grabbing a large clump of snow, and threw it through the 'gate. He did this several times, hoping that it created enough of a push that the monitors on the other side felt it.

There was the almighty sound of more shots being fired and Rodney, feeling much like a rabbit running from the hunter, darted back into the forest, running for all he was worth. The trees whipped by, starting him as they reached out to scratch his face or his neck. But he only ran faster, using the last of the small fountain of adrenaline that had sprung into his system.

But he did collapse, when his mind told him he was at a safe distance. He didn't wonder whether Ladon would find him, he'd probably left a trail that any dumbass could follow. All he could think was, did it work? Did Atlantis register the snow?

~OO~

Carson sat at Weir's desk, picking mindlessly at a hangnail as he rattled off the latest orders for the infirmary, the supplies needed and perhaps more staff. More staff would be good.

But his heart was not in it. Hadn't been for quiet some time. Not since he hadn't been able to stop Kolya from stealing his boy right from under his nose. And that was how he thought of Rodney, his boy, his friend. Someone to be protected and loved. His little boy and was and probably hurt. Or something worse…

"Carson?"

He looked at Weir, he must have zoned out. Again.

"Aye, that's all, Elizabeth." Carson said and made to stand.

Weir offered him a sympathetic look and told him to get some sleep, to which he nodded appropriately but said nothing out loud. He hadn't been getting much sleep at all lately.

'Unscheduled off-word activation."

The alarm was loud and clear and both Weir and Carson were on their feet in a heartbeat. They ran through the small corridor to stand at the balcony overlooking the Stargate. The iris was up and would stay up until they received a code. They did not, however.

Sheppard appeared below them, accompanied by Ronon and Teyla. His dark eyes were fixed on the 'gate. As was everyone else's.

But there was no code and there was no sign of life. Only the dull _zatzatzat _of something hitting the shield. It reminded Carson of flies hitting the blue light and sizzling to death. He sighed and lowered his eyes, feeling disheartened.

He did not see Sheppard leave the 'gateroom. He also did not notice Chuck frown, leaning forward to gaze suspiciously at the screen in front of him. He felt Weir's hand grip his shoulder but couldn't manage to look into her pitying eyes.

He mimicked the Colonel and left without another word.

~OO~

Rodney was wide eyes and quaking. Smothered in snow from foot to waist. He stood and waited for Ladon to return, because he had to return. He had _told_ him to return.

So he waited.

~OO~

"What is it, Chuck?" Weir leaned over the young man's shoulder, staring at the screen he had called her over to look at.

"Its just…well, the unscheduled activation seemed rather pointless, don't you think?"

"Yes, but why do you find that strange? We do occasionally get those unanswered calls." Weir said, amused.

Chuck nodded with a little smile of his own.

"I also analyzed those sounds we heard, it was something striking the iris."

"An attack?"

"No, there was no heat, radiation, or power signature. In fact, if anything, it was cold. It was completely harmless."

"Oh."

"Doctor Weir?" Weir excused herself and Chuck nodded. He pushed previous thoughts from his mind and got back ot his work. He had lots to do. He always did.

~OO~

"Ladon." Rodney said with a wave of relief. He watched the man puffing and huffing as he made his way toward him. He appeared unhurt and his cheeks were flushed a bright red.

"Did you dial Atlantis?" He asked as he bent at the waist and sucked in a harsh breath.

Rodney nodded. "Yes. We can only hope they keep the iris open next time. You think you're up to another run?"

Ladon evened his breathing and stood. "Just give me a few moments, otherwise my legs are going to fall off." He huffed a little laugh but Rodney couldn't seem to join him. He was so goddamn tired. His own legs were quivering with the effort to keep him standing and he could no longer breathe through his nose.

Sweat stung his eyes.

"Okay, so, same as last time. We get them away from the 'gate and I'll dial home and sent the note through. Hopefully Sheppard will come storming through and we're saved." Rodney said solemnly.

The boy rubbed a hand down his sleep numbed face. He could feel the grit between his teeth, crunching every time he swallowed or clenched his jaw. The last vestiges of anticipation left him then, and he was filled with a dull sense of duty. He had to finish his plan because it was the right thing to do. To give up was to give in.

Ladon had caught his breath and gave a steady nod, mouth a stiff line. He was passing the gun from one hand to the other, whether nervous or simply fidgeting, Rodney did not know.

"Alright, lets do this again." Rodney stepped forward but Ladon abruptly stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Rodney, there is a chance that they'll have more guards and in all likelihood I may not even return."

"You said this last time, Ladon, and you came back fine. Lets just assume that we've gone through this little speech and we can move on." Rodney snapped, sounding much like his old self. But once he was done, he lapsed back into a quiet, blank child standing waist deep in snow with a gun held loosely in his hands.

Ladon said nothing, but he looked like he sorely wanted to.

They made it to the Stargate as they had the last time. But kept back a little more, cautious now despite their earlier victory. Even with a quick glance they could see there was twice the guards there had been. Most were still huddled around the DHD, but there were now several walking the perimeter, guns cocked readily at their sides.

Rodney gulped.

"Here we go." Ladon muttered, and he was gone before Rodney could hold him back or tell him to be careful.

The man leapt from their hiding place and, arms waving through the air, ran faster than Rodney had thought possible. Shouts filled the air, shots took notches out of trees and snow flurried. More than half of the soldiers ran after Ladon, leaving only three to guard the 'gate.

Rodney's heart stuttered.

What was he going to do? All the guards were supposed to follow!

Retreating in the hollow of the tree, Rodney sucked in several deep breaths. He was scared. So scared. But Sheppard wouldn't be scared, he would run out and shoot them all without blinking. He would be brave.

The image of Stian rushed to the forefront of his mind, engulfing him in guilt and horror and grief. He'd already killed someone, he could do it again. He didn't want to. But he would.

His body moved without another thought. Standing and pivoting on his feet at once so that he spun out and away form the tree. His hand automatically raised the gun and his finger, poised over the trigger. Pulled again and again. The recoil hit him each time he pulled, flicking his shoulder back and making him flinch. And when the gun clicked empty he sagged, the weight of the world had fallen on his shoulders.

His mind was flat lining.

His body walked him over to the DHD. He did not look at the bloodied and still bodies lying at his feet as his hands flew over the DHD and he dialed home. He didn't hear the rush of the Stargate opening but he saw it, and walked over to calmly pull the picture from his pocket and, without thinking, tossed it through.

He stepped back. He wanted so badly to jump through. He could go home right there. But then he would be leaving Ladon, the man who had saved his life as he had done in return. He would not let Ladon die.

With thoughts of death churning his mind, Rodney backed away from the 'gate and watched the event horizon close. It felt like he had ripped himself apart by not going through the 'gate. He'd held himself so stiffly in an effort to keep himself on the spot. So hard. So tired.

Something grabbed his leg and he screamed.

~OO~

Carson jerked in surprise when the alarm sounded once again, not an hour after the last time. He furrowed his brow and sat straighter in his chair. Debating

He did not want to get his hopes up, but his curiosity was too great, he pushed out of his chair, dropping the report he'd been reading and hurried out of his office. When he came to the Gate room he found a crowd of people surrounding the gate. There were armed soldiers, yes, but also civilians, and Sheppard and the team were there, too.

Carson went to stand with Sheppard, who was closest to the 'gate itself, and watching on with intrigue as small, white things began to flutter out of the swirling blue. No one said a word, only stared.

Carson shot a look up and behind him where Weir was standing, she looked bewildered, but he supposed she had to have some idea what was going on, if she'd allowed the lowering of the shield.

He turned back when there was a little wave of muttering through the assemblage. A note fluttered delicately to the ground of the 'gate room. It landed amongst the white fluff and was still. The Stargate closed almost too loudly in the hushed quiet.

Carson was the first to stumble forward, hope alight in his chest, and scoop up the note. The white stuff, he realized, was snow, and clung to his hands and the note. He gasped aloud when he unfolded the piece of paper.

In the space of a beat, Sheppard had almost plastered himself to Carson's back, and he gave a small, oblivious shout as his eyes roved over the lines and shapes.

"Rodney." Carson muttered, and before he knew, he was being strangled in a bear hug as Sheppard gave another shout.


	12. Red Ribbons

**Forever End**

Chapter Twelve

Things, they will get better Oh, but not today

Rodney screamed.

There was a guttural growl from behind him and he spun, falling when the grip on his leg tugged at the same time. Panic flared, so bright and loud that he let out a wail, clawing in an effort to drag himself away, but the snow slid between his fingers, offering no help at all.

"Kolya." Rodney heard the Genii soldier gasp, presumably into his radio. "I have him, they attempted to draw us away from the 'Gate, but I have him."

Oh, god, Rodney thought silently, still fighting, they were going to bring him back to Kolya.

He drew on the reserves of his strength and kicked out viciously, hearing the satisfying crunch as he broke the Soldier's nose. The man cried out, letting go to clutching his bloodied face. Rodney scrambled away, he heard a moan and saw that the other Soldier was coming around too, lifting his face from the snow to stare at Rodney with eyes as cold as the storm clouds above.

"No. Nononono." Rodney muttered in dread, they were going to catch him. Catch him and bring him back to Kolya. Who would no doubt kill him in the most awful, painful way possible. "No."

He got to his feet and, with a fleeting glance at the two men struggling to their own, ran.

It was like before, but worse, this time when he ran, he could feel his fear expanding. Threatening to cut off his airways and smother his heart until it would no longer beat. But the fear also made everything harder to comprehend. Like, why did his feet feel numb? And why was he looking behind him? There was really no chance to outrun two, full grown men. They would gain on him in a matter of seconds.

Rodney ground to a halt. He looked around him, where was he? He didn't recognize the area, nothing called to his memory and the snow was even and untouched. Lost. Too far from the Stargate.

He backtracked, turning on the spot and, with great effort, began to run again. But before he'd gotten more than ten meters, they were there, sneers on their pale faces. One was still holding his nose, while the other had one hand wrapped around his stomach and the other held a gun, cocked, at Rodney. He gulped.

"Please." He begged, feeling pathetic. "Please, I just want to go home. I don't want to go back there. Not back to Kolya."

"We have him." One of the Genii mumbled into his radio, and they advanced.

~OO~

"Can you trace the address?" Sheppard hissed, looming over Chuck with an almost feral expression on his usually calm face. Carson stood not far away, with Teyla, and simply watched.

He wanted them to say yes, so badly, so unbelievably badly.

They had to get Rodney back, if not for Atlantis, then for the boy himself. Who was sure to be in some kind of hell at the hands of the bastard Kolya.

"Yes." Chuck said stonily, and Carson was amazed at the man, Sheppard was being downright scary, yet he held his ground like any seasoned warrior.

Sheppard ran, then, calling for a contingent of armed men to be waiting for him by the time he got back. Carson, with a quick nod from Weir, followed.

~OO~

A low growl raised the hair on the back of Rodney's neck. He blinked, for a moment uncomprehending. And then the growl deepened, something wet and slime touching his head, ruffling his hair with its breath.

A little whimper left his lips.

He watched through cloudy eyes as the Genii stared, eyes going wide. Not a good sign. The huffing and puffing was filling the air around him with a misty kind of vapor. Whatever was behind him was big. Very big.

With all the courage he could muster, Rodney turned his head, and stared at the big white nose invading his personal space. Spittle dribbled from between lethal looking fangs and it was all Rodney could do not to faint on the spot. There'd be no chance to escape if he was unconscious.

There was a click and Rodney turned cautiously back to stare at the Genii. They both had their guns trained on the massive beast behind him, twin looks of horror adorning their usually stoic features.

The bullets whizzed through the air, one even managing to clip him in the shoulder and he spun with a shriek to the ground. It was, perhaps, the hit that saved him. As he fell, the monster lept, springing forward to collide with the Genii, their weapons useless against its thick mass.

Rodney stared at the sky for a moment, breathing too rabid and wheezy. He heard the sound of something snapping, a wet, slick sound, slurping. He vomited. But he did it quietly, not wanting to draw the monster's attention. He sat up, wincing at the pain in his left arm where the bullet had clipped him. He could see the monster, straggly white fur hung from a squared frame that was coiled heavily with muscle and sinew. Legs as thick as tree trunks with claws like knives, Rodney gazed in morbid fascination as a head the size of a garbage bin dug and chewed its way through the Genii. A human hand flicked through the air as the monster snapped the arm in half.

Rodney was on his feet and moving before he even registered that he'd moved at all. He was sobbing, wailing, really. And he couldn't have been more petrified. There was a monster behind him, crunching bones like they were toothpicks and swallowing limbs whole. The _snap crunch squelch_ was loud and to much to take in.

"Oh god Oh god Oh god Oh god." He was chanting, a mantra of pure terror. The snakes in his gut writhed with renewed rage and it was all he could do not to puke again.

But that was not the worst, no, he could hear it.

It.

Moving behind him. Stalking, running, huffing its fetid breath into the air as it chased. There was no denying what the eventual outcome would be. There was, perhaps, the thinnest of slivers of hope worming through his chest. But that sliver was quickly banished, sucked away by the poison of doubt and fear.

God, he was tired.

_Stop running_, a voice whispered on the periphery of his mind, tantalizing, seductive. _Stop running._

So easy, so easy. All he had to do was stop, let himself slide boneless to the ground and never think again. Never feel his heart beating so frantically in his chest.

But he heard the sound of the monster behind him and could no more stop than he could turn and fight. Petrified of pain, he ran and ran, tears blinding him to the fact that he was still lost. He was driving himself to the above ground grave, because with no one near, with no one to save him, he _was_ going to die.

"CARSON." He screamed in blind terror. "SHEPPARD."

There was no one but the monster to hear his words, and it simply did not care. It slowed a little, letting him gain a small lead, but it was only a trick, a ploy to make the hunt more enjoyable. There was nothing more delicious than hope dashed with the overload of fear, just before teeth sank into flesh.

"Please. Please don't eat me." Rodney moaned between panted breaths, he wished he was anywhere but there.

And then the ground roiled beneath him, becoming no more substantial than a cloud. He fell, colliding with the side of the slope so hard that the air was driven harshly from his lungs. He did not get it back as he struck again, rolling and tumbling, down the acute fall. He heard, over the roar of the wind in his ears and the pain screaming through his body, the loud roar of the monster as it followed him over the edge.

They both rolled, but the Monster was heavier, its built weighing it down. It tumbled faster, and soon it overtook Rodney and he caught glimpses of its white fur in the snow, moving further into the distance, and he was following it.

He could not think of panic, thought, there was no thoughts as he fell. There was no time, how could there be? When he was moving toward the conclusion.

His body spun one last time and then he skidded, and stopped.

He lay, heaving each agonizing breath, and closed his eyes.

Surely he could sleep now.

There was a creak of bone and muscle, Rodney's eyes popped open, and his face creased in dread. His lower lip trembled but his throat offered no sound.

The monster rose from the snow.

_Stop fighting_, that voice was crooning, _stop fighting_.

The monster reared and gave a triumphant, rumbling holler. It crept closer, large eyes hungry. There was blood oozing from between its teeth. Blood dripped to the ground. The red so stark against the white. Wrong. Inelegant.

But there was something oddly calming about it.

When his blood was spilt, he would forever mar the otherwise pristine, never ending white.

The monster slashed its massive paw down in one, fatal strike.

~OO~

Ladon dropped his hand to his side, he had no bullets left, the last of them were embedded in the corpse lying at his feet. The blood rushed harshly in his ears.

"Rodney." He muttered after a moment, and set off again, keeping his eyes wide and alert to his surroundings. But he saw no one, nothing to hint that he was anything but alone.

Why, then, was there a sickening feeling in his gut?

He went to the Stargate. He had given Rodney more than enough time to get the message through. Spotting a marring in the snow, he gulped and stepped forward. Blood.

Ladon ran a hand through his hair. Sweat pricked the back of his neck and under his eyes. He had no way of knowing what had happened, the tracks in the snow were many and varied. He looked around him with a mixture of apprehension and grief.

He went in the opposite direction than the one he had come. Rodney would not have followed. He would have gone back to their hiding place.

He did not hear the Stargate dial up and the whoosh of the blue crashing through the air. So he did not turn around. He did, however, hear the sing of bullets flying around him.

Something shoved him forward, and a cold sensation spread throughout his body, emanating from the center of his back. He tried to crawl forward but another shove pushed him back into the snow. He blinked at the rapidly darkening world in confusion.

He saw booted feet, a frowning face, soundless lips moving to form unheard words.

His last thought was that he was finished, and that hopefully, just hopefully, he had done enough to get Rodney home.

And then the roaring in his ears overcame all else and he slipped, motionlessly, into something deeper than sleep.

~OO~

There were ribbons of red around Rodney. He reached out his hands to catch them as they fluttered delicately through the air. They felt velvety, feather light, whispery. He smiled at the sensation.

_The monster raked its claws down his chest, a content groan escaping its jagged teeth._

Butterflies began to catch the red ribbons, drawing them away from Rodney before they could land on his face. He chuckled as they struggled beneath the wait, and let them rest on his fingertips before they moved on.

_Blood splattered the ground. Arched through the air. His spine bowed, a scream building in the depths of his soul._

Listless. Calm. Rodney felt the warm rays of the sun glide down from the sky to cup his sensitive face, he closed his eyes against the feeling. It was warm. Comfortable. He would be happy when Carson got here, to join him.

_His body bucked and writhed, fighting against the inevitable. Rodney clenched every muscle in his small body as the pain rode him in waves. His hand closed around something. Something too solid to be snow._

Loose lipped, the smile cascaded over his face again. Yes, Carson would enjoy it here. They would go searching for starfishes and watch the clouds swim in the sky. They would be together. Forever.

_His fingers curled around the object. Seeking. Unknowing. He drew it upward and, unbidden, his fingers twitched violently. His scream was as loud as the bang._

Forever. Until the end. Forever End.

_A weight unlike any other pushed him down and forced the air out of his body. He remained motionless long after the bang went off and the snarling faded into a whine, and then a nothingness._

Sucked into the whirlpool of life and beyond, Rodney could not distinguish which was real and which reality was not. He felt with his mind, but the barrier between imagination and reality was breached, torn down by the agony that had accosted him.

_Snow flakes the color of ash touched his cheeks. Tasted sour upon his tongue, melting into the metallic flavor there. Rodney rolled his eyes, but it seemed too much effort. His lids fluttered._

A butterfly hefted another ribbon.

_The sky was white._

Warmth encased him lovingly.

_Whispers broke the fragile air._

Rodney.

_Rodney._

Rodney.

_Rodney._

"Carson."

The butterflies exploded in a shower of tiny hearts and bloodless limbs. The ribbons fell and spattered him in red, now held by nothing more than willpower. Rodney gasped. Something rose up in his and poured from his mouth. He choked, trying to swallow past it.

A voice, a hand, a familiar face. They came and went with each roll of reality. Slipping from sight when he blinked and returned when he choked on each breath.

"Carson."

~OO~

Sheppard was the first through the 'gate. He moved silently, but his anger was on the verge of boiling over. Desperation tempered it down, ever so slightly, making it possibly to breathe.

He saw something move at the corner of his eye, made note that it was not Rodney, and fired several shots. The figure fell and did not move. Feeling neither guilty nor especially worried, he continued to weave his way around the DHD to scope out the area.

His men were close behind, but he noticed that Carson was moving off to collapse beside the figure, touching a hand to its neck. And then he turned away and silently motioned for his men to spread out.

~OO~

Carson swallowed a cry as he saw the Colonel fire his weapon almost thoughtlessly. He supposed that the man was under a lot of stress, that he was simply doing his job. But firing upon someone who had no more posed a threat to them than a wounded lamb was not going to help them find Rodney!

He quickly made his was over to the fallen figure, heedless of the resentful looks that were tossed his way, and dropped to his knees to inspect the man. He touched a hand to their neck and felt a pang of grief that he could not save them. The little flutter beneath his fingers was weak and fading.

He leveled his face with the fallen man and spoke slowly and clearly.

"Can ye hear me, lad?" He asked, "Can ye hear me?" And then he froze. He recognized that face, the sluggishly blinking eyes staring back at him.

Ladon.

He touched a hand to the dying man's head, feeling frantic.

"Where's Rodney? Ladon, where is he?"

But the man slipped away, his eyes dulling and going blank. His body went limp, and that familiar, rattling sound of the last sigh leaving his body filled the deafening silence.

Carson jerked and stood, he glanced back down at the dead man and furrowed his brow. Where had Ladon been running to? Would he not have wanted to stay close to the 'gate? Although, he thought again, Ladon had betrayed them, he could have been trying to save his own hide.

That thought seemed somehow wrong and, without another thought, Carson began making his way though the frozen forest. He was alone, there was no one to back him up and he had only himself to rely on.

It was not long before he came across the mess of dismembered limbs and the inhuman amount of blood. Carson could not tell how many bodies there were, but he had to believe that none were his boy's. Steeling himself, he went further.

It was, perhaps, his determination that allowed him to find his way.

He stood on the edge of a steep slope, frozen in horror, he could see a large, shaggy beast down there, standing over something small and red.

He dropped his med kit and pulled with quivering hands, his gun from its holster. It felt awkward in his grip and it took more than a moment to get it correctly positioned and then he was stumbling down toward the monstrous creature. He was not even sure that that body was Rodney's. But he was trusting his instincts. He had to.

His heart thumped painfully against his ribcage when he saw a little arm rise beneath the best. There was a gun held in that small hand, he heard the _click click click_, but clearly the bullets had been spent and the gun was empty.

Without another thought he fired. Squinting, yet still running, as the gun bucked in his grip.

The beast roared at him but he kept firing. Again and again until the thing, a sizeable hole now hollowing out its skull, gave a strange mewing sound and collapsed to the snow.

Carson dropped the gun and hurried the remaining distance between him and his boy. He was sure he was muttering something, but even to his own ears it was incoherent and useless.

"Carson." The sound broke him in two.

His legs gave out before he could even think of kneeling. His hand went straight to the boys face. There was blood. Lots of blood. Everywhere. The boy's skin was the same pallor as the snow and seemed silk thin, the tracery of veins showing through with startling clarity.

"Rodney."

Carson watched as the eyes focused and then unfocused. He could feel the tears sliding down his cheeks but did not stop them. He touched a trembling finger to the boy's neck and felt for a pulse, fearing it would be like Ladon, and the boy would die before he could even try to help.

"Rodney. Rodney." He whispered, and suddenly his world crystalized with stunning clarity. He leapt to his feet and somehow managed to get back up the slope to retrieve his med kit. He almost ripped it open trying to get to the bandages. He did his best to covered and wrap the long claw wounds across the boys chest, noticing how Rodney was struggling to breathe.

He knew he had to get him back to Atlantis.

~OO~

Sheppard and his men spotted the Genii before they themselves were seen. He froze and his men fanned out. His gaze narrowed when it hit Kolya, and, stepping out from the trees, he found the man smiling back at him.

"Colonel Sheppard, how nice of you to come. I hope you don't expect to survive this visit."

There was a heartbeat of stillness. Sheppard breathed. In. And. Out.

Kolya's face crunched beneath his fist. He heard someone shouting and realized it was him, but could do nothing to stifle the guttural sound streaming from his mouth. Kolya was growling, also, his own fists and knees pummeling the short man.

They fought, but for how long, Sheppard did not know.

It ended only when a hand grabbed his shoulder and yanked him back, away from Kolya. He turned to snarl at Lorne, but the man was shouting at him, telling him to calm down and look.

He looked.

Kolya's face was a mass of red and broken bones.

~OO~

"Rodney." Carson said, leaning close, his lips brushing the boy's white cheek.

He jerked back when a little voice responded, so heartbreakingly hopeful.

"Carson."

"Yes! Rodney, I'm here, I'm here." And he scooped the broken boy into his arms, wary of the odd angle of his small legs and the wound at his chest and shoulder. He heard the rattle of each breath and felt the small puffs of air against his neck.

"Don't leave me." The boy said so softly that Carson almost mistook it for a little wheeze.

He steeled himself and got to his feet, leaving the med kit behind and running.

"Just stay with me, lad, stay with me and I'll never leave ye."

"You promise?"

"Aye, lad."

"We'll be together. Forever. Forever end." Rodney choked and was unnaturally still.

"Forever, Rodney." Carson cried, his eyes then burning with tears.


	13. Tears

**Forever End**

Chapter Thirteen

Say, say, oh, Playmate I cannot play with you

The colors. They were ugly.

Twisting and writhing and pulling him this way and that. He struggled against them, heard them screaming at him to be calm and still. Why would they tell him that? Why would they want him to be calm?

Rodney gasped and the colors flowed passed his stretched lips. Choking, gagging, his stomach roiled and churned as the colors filled him up, his body threatened to burst.

They screamed again. Rushing. Dizzy. He couldn't breathe. Like he was tumbling down a waterfall, the water would not allow it. And neither would the colors.

The world dimmed to a pale, white blue blur. Long fingers smoothed his cheek, the back of his neck, his quivering lip. He heard the soft, broken sounds of someone muttering at his ear. Snippets, pleas, begging him to stay awake.

He blew out a dull breath. Heard it gurgle high in his chest, bubbling up his throat to form a scarlet foam at his lips. He swallowed convulsively. The next breath he drew was but a slight whisper, starving his lungs.

But as the shadows blurred his vision, he did not fade completely. He was stuck, trapped, in that place between where he could almost see and almost hear. But not quite.

He thought he heard laughing.

~OO~

Carson pushed the bandages against Rodney's chest, felt the blood ooze thickly between his fingers and watched in silent terror as the boy's eyes rolled dangerously in his skull.

Small sounds were trailing from the boy's lips, blood bubbled and rolled. Carson raised one cold hand to wipe it away. He cuddled the boy to his chest and struggled to his feet. Sheppard attempted to aid him, could not help but touch Rodney's small back.

Carson edged quickly around the still corpse, because that was what it was, and made his way to the Stargate. He told the faceless marine to dial home, not caring that he might have been rude. Every moment was another that Rodney struggled to live.

The 'gate whooshed to life and he barely paused while someone keyed in their IDC. A shivering moment of unclear spinning, and then he was staggering into the Gate room of Atlantis, calling for assistance and ignoring the shouted calls for an explanation, an answer, anything.

He could barely make out Elizabeth's face as she hurried toward him, one hand hovered over Rodney's back, while she used the other to clasp the Doctor's arm, trying to make him calm down.

But Carson was moving into Doctor mode, his legs steadied, no longer threatening to buckle beneath him, and he was training a harsh gaze on the nurses that came scurrying to aid him.

He placed Rodney gently on the gurney, hesitant to relinquish the small hand clutching his shirt front, but he pried the small fingers off nonetheless, setting the hand on the whiteness.

He watched the sheets already spreading with red.

And then Rodney's eyes flickered, his mouth quivered, trying to say something. He leaned in, whispered reassurances to his fragile boy and hoped beyond hope that he could save him. He had to.

They moved in a haze of faceless people and swishing doorways. The lights too bright, the questions too much. It was almost a relief to hit the operating theatre, and by then all of Carson's focus was on keeping the life in Rodney's frail body, not the small hand clutching the gurney sheets in desperation.

~OO~

Sheppard was ushered into the infirmary by a short, plump nurse. She cleaned his knuckles and wrapped a light gauze around his hands without a word. He could not meet her gaze, was worried she would see the guilt and fear and pain in his own eyes. So much guilt that his bruised stomach clenched and he wanted to double over in pain.

He'd killed a man. Killed him without even thinking. What would Rodney think?

But Sheppard didn't allow his turmoil to show on the surface, he sat still while the nurse checked him out, but did not offer any help or information to aid in the treatment of his wounds. They could have been self inflicted, for all it mattered.

"Do you want something for the pain?" The nurse asked hesitantly, as if she already knew he was going to say no. But instead he nodded, ignoring the surprised little sound she made as she handed him the little pill bottle and sent him on his way.

"Rest," She said, "and take one of those every three hours. Come back in the morning."

Sheppard nodded silently and headed out. The hallways were empty as he walked to his quarters, and he had to remind himself that it was the middle of the night, and that most likely, no one had heard about the events on the planet. Yet.

The doors whooshed shut behind him, sealing him in his guilt and fear. He shuddered, remembering the feel of Kolya's skin breaking beneath his strike, the bitter cold scouring his skin and then numbing him.

Sheppard went to the bed and sat, perched on the edge. He hadn't slept here since that moment, that time when Rodney had come to his room and slept, restful, atop his chest. The memory made something flutter delicately in his chest, he must have hurt his friend terribly, so very terribly, to instill such mistrust. But he had regained it, hadn't he? He had, hadn't he?

He sat the pills on the small table beside his bed, suddenly deciding that he didn't deserve them. Sheppard lay back on his bed and closed his eyes. It seemed only by sheer will that he slept, dreamless yet restless. Fully clothes with his stomach, ribs and hands aching terribly, he slept atop the covers, ready to leap up on command.

~OO~

A whoosh.

A beep. Beep. Beep.

A smell, something crisp and cold and chemical.

Garbled words, they spoke with rhythm, and with a familiar lilt.

It was warm, a heavy weight across his chest, and fuzzy, head swimming with the need to sleep.

Rodney breathed, but it was hard, there was something scratchy and painful in his throat, pushing sweet air into his lungs. He coughed a little, only a little, not loud enough to disturb the air or raise his chest.

Something, someone, was holding his hand. A callused thumb rubbing small circles over his palm. It was nice, and calming and made him feel slightly better. But he was beginning to grow scared, things were unknown, frightening. What was that beeping sound? Why was there something in his throat?

He had to open his eyes, he had to see for himself that he was alive.

Fluttering lashes, the light was bright but not blinding. Blurry at first, Rodney rolled his eyes to one side and then the other. He could make out a figure, sitting beside him, one hand outstretched to his and the other holding a book. Reading. Carson was reading to him. Rodney could not remember the last time someone had read to time, never, surely. No one had ever deemed him important enough.

He made a choked little sound, but it was enough to alert the doctor that his patient was awake. Carson leapt from his seat, startling Rodney, and the book dropped to the ground with a clatter.

"Lad! Ye're awake, ye had us all worried." Carson said gently, smile small but pleased. He looked tired, there were heavy smudges of purple beneath his eyes and he looked pale. But Rodney had never been more glad to see anyone in his life.

His eyes burned, tears sliding down his cheek. He hiccupped, and then gagged when the thing in his throat scratched painfully.

"Alright, we'll get ye out of his, cough, lad. Go on." Carson coaxed gently, pulling the tube free as Rodney complied. He gagged a little more, and then he was trying to raise his arms. Silently begging to be held.

But Carson did not pick him up, even seemed hesitant to touch him. Rodney let his arms drop back limply, dejected. His chest was aching and soon he feared he would be blinded by tears.

"Careful, lad, ye've been asleep for a while and I don't want to pull ye stitches unnecessarily."

It made sense, but Rodney still wanted a hug. He lifted his arms again, and this time Carson sighed.

He bent over Rodney, checking his pulse and eyes before settling back a little. There must have been something in Rodney's eyes, because the Doctor sighed again, and removing several of the wires and leads attached to his small patient, lifted Rodney up into his arms.

Rodney stifled a sob as, at first, his chest pulled painfully, but he sank into that familiar warmth and the feel of affection that radiated from Carson. He was safety and love and everything in between. But he didn't stop crying, couldn't, he sobbed because he'd hated being lost, being scared and feeling alone. He sobbed because he had missed Carson and he had missed his home.

Rodney sniffled and rubbed his face against the side of Carson's neck and cheek, feeling several days worth of bead scratch his skin but not minding in the least. He smelled off coffee and mint. Home.

"Missed you." Rodney whispered scratchily.

Carson sank back into his chair and slid down. Rodney slumped gratefully on his chest, eyes already heavy with the need to sleep. He dozed for a while, liking the way Carson rubbed those familiar circles on his back and the feel of his chest rising and falling against his cheek.

_Alive_.

He was alive, he knew for sure now.

"How long?" He asked after a time, he didn't know where the question came from, but it seemed important.

"Rodney..."

"Please?"

Carson sighed.

"Two weeks. Ye've been asleep for almost two weeks, lad."

Unbelievable...couldn't possibly...certainly not...

He went to sleep with those thoughts trailing across his mind, unforgiving and on repeat.

~OO~

He woke again, still hugged to Carson's chest. It was bliss, the warmth that enveloped him. He could even hear the Doctor snoring in his ear. How he had missed it. His best friend, a father figure.

Sleep.

~OO~

The bed was cooler than Carson, not as comfortable when he woke next. And there was a different presence, a figure with jet black hair and blue eyes sitting next to him on the bed. Sheppard. Sheppard the warrior.

Rodney smiled at him, unaware of the pensive thoughts and guilt running through the other man's mind. Unaware that Sheppard had been sitting there for two days straight.

Sleep.

~OO~

Talking. Mumbled words. Rodney lifted his head a fraction, enough to see Sheppard slumped by his feet, legs dangling over the sides of the bed with one arm tossed wide, fingers a scant inch from his own. Sheppard looked haggard, even in sleep, and as he dreamed he spoke, not real words, garbled and meaningless.

Rodney grasped those fingers as a child might a parent's, comfort in a small touch. But comfort all the same.

Sleep.

~OO~

"...the first time I saw you. I thought you were some useless geek, but then, as the months went by, I saw you as more of a person, or a friend. Albeit an abrasive, more than a little friend, but one all the same."

Shifting restlessly at the sound of Lorne's voice, wondering why Carson or Sheppard wasn't there. Lorne patted him fondly on the side of the head with the promise that they would be back soon. Rodney settled, and Lorne began his monologue again, speaking of mundane, simple things that were strangely soothing.

Sleep.

~OO~

Rodney didn't dream when he slept, but he was sure he imagined when he was awake. Once he thought he saw Carson drinking something that smelled stronger than coffee. He thought he heard someone crying, had pried his eyes open to see Sheppard beside him. Ronon sat and was silent, but there was something in his eyes that made Rodney worry.

People came and went. A thickly accented voice and the smell of mechanical and electrical dust. Soft words and a gentle, feminine hand smoothing his hair. Unrecognizable sounds and smells and sights. He didn't like it when anyone else came but his family.

He liked when Sheppard or Carson were beside him, even Radek and Ronon and Lorne and Teyla. They reminded him that he was indeed home. But those to her people, the ones that made him feel slightly sick in the stomach, how he loathed when they were near.

He didn't talk much, it hurt his throat and something deep within his chest would protest at the drawing of hurried breath. Sleep was best, sleep was easy and peaceful and kind. Carson brought sleep in the form of warmth and sometimes a needle filled with cold, tingling liquid.

'The good stuff', Carson had called it, but Rodney had not understood.

He came to know that he was in the infirmary, back in the isolation room with the curved walls. It was usually empty in there, except for his family, but he liked when they filled the emptiness.

And then the heat came. Burning through him and pouring from his pours. Sweat trickling down his face and stinging his eyes. He thrashed, Kolya was hunting him, and Laden could not save him. Sheppard was dead and Carson was lost. He kicked and struck out at the hands holding him and wanted nothing more than to run but they would not let him. In the end he was too weak to move, curled on his side and sobbing into the damp pillow.

How long he stayed like that, he did not know. But when a cool cloth was pressed to his forehead, he realized he was empty. His eyes were sore and dry and his limbs leaden and unmoving.

The towel wiped the sweat from his face and cooled his eyes. He shivered, but was grateful. Hungry, even.

He blinked in the dim light and gazed with pitiful weakness up at the figure above him and had no idea who it was. Images flickered, meshed with reality, and he was staring up into first Laden's face, sad but pleased, and then Kolya's. Hateful and angry.

Rodney screamed. He screamed and closed his eyes and batted at the hand near his face. Broken little sobs escaped his lips, tumbled into the darkness. Shaking hands lifted him up and away from the bed. Weightless for a moment, and then suddenly still.

~OO~

Carson knew when the fever rose again that he had to be careful. Such a small body, and after such a big ordeal. His stitches were healing but the internal damage kept him constantly on edge. He worried about infection and permanent damage.

Rodney was rarely left alone, there was always someone by him, watching. But Carson knew that Rodney was only ever really happy if it was Sheppard or himself. It might have made Carson proud, had he not been so worried.

He sat at his desk, wearily going over some reports and adding bits and pieces. He was dog tired, but couldn't find the will to allow himself to sleep. He'd left Sheppard with the boy, told him to keep him calm and given him a cool cloth to wipe the child's brow with.

Perhaps half an hour passed, it was quiet, and strangely still. And then he heard the frightened screams and leapt from his chair, hurrying to the isolation room where Rodney was. He almost collided with Ronon on his way in, the much taller man having been on his way to visit Sheppard and Rodney.

They entered together and Carson stifled a sad sigh.

Rodney was thrashing, semi-conscious, eyes half closed and fists flailing weakly. He was saying something over and over that sounded suspiciously like 'Kolya', although Carson could not be sure.

Sheppard was hovering over him, looking stricken and panicked. He tried to calm the boy but in the end, face pale and grim, he gingerly scooped Rodney up and clutched him to his chest as if he were drowning.

The wailing stopped immediately, leaving only broken little sobs that dribbled down the boy's lips to soak into the colonel's shirt. Rodney's hands fisted in his black shirt, holding tightly as he pressed his face into the crook of his neck, too warm forehead digging into his skin.

Carson approached, laying a gentle hand on the Colonel's arm before checking that Rodney was alright. Despite the heat still radiating from his skin, his fever had broken. The relief was small and short, but still there. Only then did he look up into Sheppard's face, and what he saw made him smile slightly, because he knew the other man was feeling exactly the same as he was.

Tears were shinning in his eyes, worry lines deeply engraved around his eyes and mouth. But there was a kind of determination, a persistence to keep Rodney grounded and alive, that Carson knew all too well.

"He'll be fine, Colonel. He'll be fine." Carson managed to say, he checked that Rodney was getting enough fluids and left, albeit grudgingly, leaving Ronon to settle into the chair opposite Sheppard over the bed.

They stared at each other for a moment. And then Ronon nodded. And Sheppard nodded.

Ronon slid back in his chair, closed his eyes and seemed to sink immediately into a light doze. Sheppard hugged Rodney a little tighter for a moment, felt the boy shift into his embrace with a little sigh, and began walking in wonky circles around the room, gently rocking the boy as if he'd been doing it for years.

He had never thought himself especially good with children, certainly better than Rodney had ever been...but still. It felt almost natural to rock Rodney to sleep, it made him feel useful, better.

He even smiled with the boy sniffled softly in his sleep and mumbled something or other.

Everything would be alright. He would make sure of it.


	14. When the world falls down

**Forever End**

Chapter Fourteen

My dolly's got the flue Boo hoo hoo hoo hoo hoo

"Do you think Carson will be mad?" Rodney asked for the umpteenth time, his high pitched voice making Sheppard smile.

"No," He replied calmly, "I already talked to him."

"A-a-and?"

"He was fine with it, he said to be careful and don't press any buttons."

"But-"

"Seriously, Rodney! It's all fine!" Sheppard chuckled in exasperation.

They entered the Jumper bay to find Lorne and Zelenka with their men, all piling into the closest Puddle Jumper. For a moment Rodney shrank back from the dozen or so people crowding before him, but then Ronon strode passed him, taking his seat beside the pilot's chair and he knew it would be okay. Ronon was _safe_, he wouldn't let anything happen to him.

"You okay?" He looked up at Sheppard and nodded faintly, allowing the tall man to lead him into the Jumper and lift him into the seat behind Ronon.

From his vantage point he could swivel around and peer behind him as the Jumper hatch was closed and everyone took their seats. Lorne sat in the chair beside him, giving him a grin.

"Watcha got there, Rodney?"

Rodney fiddled with the strap of his bag, it was heavy, but only because it was filled with food. Carson had packed it for him, and said not to peek, so Rodney could only guess what the kindly doctor had packed for him.

Rodney shrugged, fighting an unnatural bout of shyness to look up at the man dressed in his TAC vest with his P-90 resting easily in his hands. The gun made something cold slide into the pit of his stomach, a memory fought to surface in his mind, but then it was washed away and Rodney was once again excited to be going off-world.

He bounced in his seat a little, letting out a breezy laugh when the chair swiveled again and watched Sheppard fiddle with the Jumper controls. Ronon already looked bored, he was slouched in his seat with his eyes barely open.

"Aren't you excited? We've going out! We're going out!" He wriggled in his seat and began kicking the back of Ronon's chair the tips of his booted feet. "We can run! And we can see stuff!" He was finding it hard to put his excitement into words, so he kept on repeating the same things over and over until everyone in the Jumper was watching him.

After about five minutes he froze, a small frown appearing on his suddenly pouting face.

"Rodney?"

The boy looked at him.

"I need to pee." He exclaimed faintly and a collective groan rose from the occupants of the Jumper.

Sheppard dropped his head, shook it, and then pinned Rodney with a hard stare.

"You just went."

"I need to go."

"Can you wait?"

"Nup."

"You mean 'yes'?"

"Nup."

"He means 'yes'." Sheppard muttered to Ronon and started the Jumper up.

"But Jo-ohn." Rodney moaned, kicking the back of Ronon's chair again. He swiveled around to look at Lorne, who was talking quietly with one of his mean leaning into the cockpit. They reminded him of large, black watchdogs. They had a ferocity about that, like they could do anything, could kill anything without blinking.

He turned back to Sheppard and watched the Jumper Bay sliding upward and then the Gate room sliding downward. He stared at the inactive Gate and something niggled at the back of his mind. But it was not coherent, and it must not have been important, so Rodney shrugged it off and kicked his legs through the air.

"Can I go now?" He called, liking the annoyed little twitch it caused to appear at Sheppard's eye. He giggled.

"No."

"Do you mean 'yes'?"

"No."

"He means 'yes'." Rodney muttered to Lorne with glee and watched the dark haired man grin in return.

He liked Lorne. He didn't tell him off or keep him from having fun, but he also seemed hesitant, like he wasn't sure what to say or do. And sometimes it made Rodney uncomfortable.

Sheppard was talking to Weir, Rodney could hear her voice but could not see her. He watched the Stargate suddenly whoosh to life in its splash of blue.

Memories clawed at his mind. Sharp and furious, burnt images sizzled and voices screamed. Rodney saw a figure in the snow, bloodied hand reaching out, trying to stop him. He felt fear, terror. He ran and ran and ran and his body was hurting and something deep inside of him thought he was already dead.

"Rodney?"

Lorne's face was looming over him, tearing through the memories and into reality.

Rodney shrank back for a moment, unsure.

"You alright, mate?"

Rodney sucked in a shaky breath and forced a small smile onto his face. He desperately wanted to go off-world, and letting everyone know that he was have day-mares would not allow him to do that.

"Fine. Er, fine, just excited." He chirped, trying to sound as exuberant as he had several moments ago. "Are we going yet?"

Lorne seemed to buy it; he grinned and nodded, saying they would be leaving in just a moment.

"Rodney? Lad, how are ye feeling?" Hearing Carson's disjointed voice coming over the speaking made Rodney jump, he looked around the Jumper as if expecting the doctor to be standing right beside him.

"Carson? Why aren't you coming with us?" Rodney called loudly, and he heard Carson's chuckle.

"Ye don't have to shout, lad. And I'm not coming with ye because I'm a little busy, but I'll be joining ye there tomorrow, okay? Now, how are ye feeling?"

"Fine, I guess."

"Ye guess?"

"He's fine, Beckett." Sheppard said and swung around to give Rodney a look. "Are we cleared to go?"

"Yes, Colonel, and good luck." Weir replied, and they could all hear the amusement in her voice.

~OO~

_Rodney was sitting in his lab, well, Zelenka's lab, doodling on a scrap of paper the scientist had tossed to him a few minutes earlier. He felt so simple, so easy, like nothing in the world mattered._

_Zelenka said something in Czech but Rodney ignored him, humming to himself as he added another cloud to the white sky in his drawing._

_Footsteps. Sheppard wandered into the lab, a lazy gait and his hands stuffed into his pockets. Rodney glanced up at him and returned the small smile, he felt tired, but he didn't want to sleep._

"_You ready, buddy?"_

"_Hunh?"_

_Sheppard helped Rodney down from his chair, even as the boy objected. He began leading him out of the room, calling over his shoulder, "You coming, Radek?"_

"_Yes, yes." Zelenka muttered, quickly packing up his work and hurrying after them._

_Rodney remembered that there was supposed to be a meeting, a debriefing. But he didn't want to go, he didn't want to talk about what had happened to anyone. Not even Carson._

_But he trudged along beside Sheppard without complaint, dreading more and more what each step was leading him to. And then he was sitting in a cushy chair at the table, and there was Weir and Teyla, Lorne and Zelenka, Ronon and Sheppard. Rodney sat by himself, an empty seat beside him that he'd quickly reserved for Carson before anyone could fill it._

_Everyone was chatting. Redundant, mundane things that Rodney could care less about. He wished they would quiet down a little, it was making his head ache. He didn't want to do this._

_And then his Carson was blowing into the room, looking frazzled and tired, as he always did these days. Rodney struggled to pull his chair closer, seeking that familiarity and warmth the doctor always emanated._

"_Alright," Weir smiled warmly. "I think we all know why we're here, so how about we start."_

_She said no more, but slowly, as if they were each reading from a script, the others began telling what they'd been doing, what they'd seen and how they'd come to see it, during Rodney's kidnapping._

_Ronon had just finished his short, clipped tale. All eyes turned to Rodney._

_There was no missing the eagerness in their eyes, they tried to hide it behind sympathetic looks and friendly smiles, but they wanted to hear, they wanted to know._

_Rodney looked up at Carson, the only person in the room who did not seem overly keen to hear what he already knew._

"_I don't want to do this." He begged quietly, so that only Carson could hear. "Please, Carson, I don't want to do this."_

_Drawing in a deep breath, it seemed to take Carson a great effort not to say 'enough' and let his boy walk out of the room. He pulled Rodney into his lap and told him it was okay, no one was going to hurt him._

"_Please, Rodney, it would help us all if you told us what happened." That was Weir. Rodney stared at her with large eyes. He couldn't understand how it would help. Reliving that pain and those memories would not save them from the wraith or the replicators. It wouldn't change the world._

_And it would hurt._

~OO~

The PuddleJ umper shot through the watery blue of the Stargate and they were gone. It seemed like they appeared immediately out the other side, shooting into the air like a bird through the cloud. Rodney yipped excitedly and bounded off his seat, leaning over the control area and Sheppard's arm to stare out at the somehow familiar scenes before him. He had the strangest sensation that he had been here before, but could not quiet place it.

He pushed the thought from his mind and focused on the excitement of finally being allowed to go off-world after a whole month of being trapped in the infirmary. Carson had been reluctant, saying his body needed a little more time to recover, but the boys endless source of energy and enthusiasm seemed to be getting in the way, he hated sitting and waiting, found himself traipsing through uninhabited areas of Atlantis until Sheppard had bodily carried him back to a rather irate and stricken doctor.

He wished Carson had come with them.

"Go and sit back down, Rodney." Sheppard said and he complied, albeit reluctantly. His chest gave a painful tug as he crawled back into the seat, but he made no complaint. He knew that if he did, Sheppard would drag him right back to the infirmary and he'd never see the light of day again. Pfft! Unfair! He wanted to play!

The Jumper flew over a forest of tall, brilliantly green trees that arced toward the sky like hungry creatures seeking the warmth and air. And then a clearing came into view, edged by those trees and a large rock formation. They touched down there, with a shudder and a sigh of relief.

At first no one moved, even Rodney could feel the sudden hair raising tension that filled the air. He peered at those in the rear compartment, wondering why they weren't hurrying to escape the confines of the overcrowded Jumper.

Rodney shrugged, finding no obvious conclusion, so he once more hopped from his seat and darted to the rear of the Jumper, waiting expectantly for someone to open up the hatch for him.

"Sheppard!" He screeched, eliciting a series of giggles from several of the scientists around him. "Are you going to open the door or what?"

"Hold your horses, McK-Rodney." Sheppard stumbled over his choice of words, having momentarily fallen into the old banter routine, it squashed the lightness of the trip and he was forced to remember the real reason they were here.

"Remember, guys, we don't want to spend the rest of our lives here. Zelenka, you and you're team will go straight to the lab while Lorne you'll go scout the area, we don't want any...unexpected surprises."

"Sheppard!" Rodney shrieked even more loudly, and Sheppard finally complied with a gusty sigh.

The hatch opened and Sheppard realized too late that he'd just let a _child _run out into unknown territory. A child who's curiosity and sense of adventure seemed to take him beyond any reasonable distance without hesitation.

"Wait! Rodney!" He called as he hurried after the small figure already halfway toward the tree line.

He vaguely heard Lorne giving some orders and the muffled, answering grunt as Ronon no doubt made his way out into the sun. Sheppard knew he wouldn't have to worry about them, he'd specifically asked for both Zelenka and Lorne's team because he knew they would both look out for themselves, and everyone else, as well as getting down to work.

Rodney disappeared into the thick line of trees.

~OO~

"_...He said he wanted a weapon that could not only get them into Atlantis, but make all of the technology go on the fritz until they could take down all the soldiers." Rodney said._

_The others had leaned over the edges of the table, intent on what Rodney was saying. They all looked grim at the possibility that if Kolya had succeeded, they probably wouldn't be sitting there right now._

"_And then what happened?"_

_Rodney fidgeted._

"_And then...and then Ladon and me put a...a bomb in the machine, and when Kolya turned it on..." Rodney fell silent._

_Both Sheppard and Zelenka look horrified, and it made Rodney feel worse. He turned and buried his face in Carson's chest, smelling the chemicals and mint that always seemed to follow him around._

_He could see it. The blood. The panic on Kolya's soldier's faces as one of their own exploded in a shower of gore. Tears blurred Rodney's eyes and he fought the urge to wail as the emotions he had felt then, burst to life now._

"_Then me and Ladon ran. And we had to climb up the really long ladder and it was really cold and snowing. We had to split up and Ladon distracted the guards so I could send you guys a message and we did it twice but the second time they were there and they were chasing me and then there was this...this...this big monster and he was chasing me too!"_

_He dissolved into sobs, trying to fight the memories running a steady stream through his mind. Faster and faster. Gun. Blood. Fear. Pain. Cold. Running._

~OO~

Sheppard swore loudly, he hadn't realized Rodney was quiet so fast. He never had been as an adult and he'd only assumed that he would be in the same shape as a child. Silly, really.

He came to a slow halt at the edge of the clearing where he'd seen Rodney vanish from sight. He wasn't breathing that hard, but his heart was thudding against his chest with worry. Carson would have his guts for garters if he found out Sheppard had lost his boy in less than five minutes.

And then a little giggle sounded somewhere in front of him and Sheppard couldn't help but smile.

"Rodney? Come on, buddy, we're not going to play just yet."

A small 'awww' and then the snapping of twigs and the crunch of leaves to his right.

"Rodney?"

A muffled 'hoot' and a chuckle.

"_Rodney_." Sheppard put on his best, most commanding tone, hoping to lure the young boy out. But Rodney as a child seemed strangely immune to his orders. He supposed real-sized McKay had been too, come to think about it.

The next giggle sounded closer and Sheppard took a hasty step into the forest and snagged a hold of the small, wriggling boy as he attempted to dart away.

"You. Need. To. Listen. Rodney." Sheppard huffed breathlessly as he endeavored to keep a hold of the squirming, laughing mass that was Rodney. He carried him back across the clearing to where Ronon was helping to carry some of the science equipment into the large alcove that housed the lab.

Sheppard could hear him muttering something about 'useless, weak people' as he passed and chuckled. He then dumped Rodney to the ground, latching onto the back of his shirt to keep him from running off again.

He turned to Zelenka.

"You set up yet?" he asked, the scientist gave a shrug, watching Rodney wriggle around between them, trying to shuck out of his shirt to get free.

Sheppard followed his gaze. He sighed.

"I think he's drunk on fresh air." He commented dryly.

Zelenka huffed a small laugh before leading them into the lab beneath the rocks. Sheppard could not help the small shudder that raced though him any more than the guilt that seemed to be eating him alive. He peered around the lab, realizing only then that he'd forgotten nothing about it, every detail was stark and familiar, everything was a painful reminder that it had been his fault Rodney was like he was.

The boy in question had quieted down considerably upon entering the lab, his large blue eyes peered around him with a mixture of fear and confusion. Unnamable fear and unanswerable confusion.

Vague memories of anger and resentment.

Zelenka was at the base console, looking over everything through his wire rimmed glasses with an air of unease. Perhaps he feared what had been done to Rodney would be done to him also.

A part of Sheppard whispered, 'Zelenka wouldn't be that stupid.'

He recoiled. His hand let go of Rodney's shirt and he stepped back, as if to rid himself of both the boy and the thought.

~OO~

_In the end it was Carson who told Rodney about Ladon._

_Half asleep on one of the swivel chairs in Carson's office, Rodney blinked at the face suddenly looming above him. For a moment he thought it was Kolya, and that he was back in the snow with his chest aching from the cold and fear spiking his heart. But then he blinked, and it was Carson's face, sympathetic and calming._

"_Rodney," The doctor said. "I need to tell you something."_

~OO~

Rodney stared around the lab, the pit of his stomach filled with writhing snakes and his eyes wide. He recognized this place, or at least, he thought he did. It could just as easily have been from a dream, but he suspected not.

And then his mind slid, slightly, and he grew bored. Noticing that Sheppard was no longer holding him in place, Rodney made a dash for the door. This time, no one stopped him.

As soon as the sun hit his face again, Rodney felt _alive_.

The fresh air and the smell of the trees around him washed away the doubts and fears and left him feeling free and happy. He hurried toward the center of the clearing, where the grass was thickest and green. He could have been the only boy on the earth, for all he cared. Except, then he would be lonely. And Carson was his best friend.

Rodney giggled as he threw himself to the grass, loving the feel of the cool strands hitting his face and hands. He rolled there for a few minutes, and then lay on his back, breathless, and gazed at the sky.

Blue.

Endless blue with a pale white sun and two shadowy moons. Cool.

Rodney stayed there for a long time. So long that he felt himself drifting off, eyes sliding shut as he dozed. Warm, comfy and so unbelievably peaceful.

He remembered things, little flickers of things that were hard to place and even harder to comprehend. They scared him a little, those faces that were angry. The smells that were coppery, and both sweet and sickening at the same time. Those were the things that stayed in his mind like a sickness or a disease. Eating away at his already fragile sanity.

~OO~

"_Why did he have to die?"_

_Carson looked miserable, but then, Rodney could barely see him through the tears blurring his eyes and burning at the back of his throat. He choked on a sob, wanting nothing more than to sink into the ground until he could feel nothing but the press of cold earth and not the crippling grief._

_Ladon had saved his life, had been the only thing keeping Rodney alive in that hell that was Kolya's underground bunker._

"_It was an accident." Carson murmured, gathering the boy up into his arms and stroking his hair. "Just an accident."_

"_But it's not fair!"_

"_I know, lad, I know."_

"_He saved my life. He isn't allowed to be dead." Rodney cried weakly, feeling his limbs go heavy and his head sink into Carson's chest. "I thought you said everything would be alright."_

~OO~

Rodney opened his eyes and stared in vague surprise at the now dark sky above. The moons and the sun had reversed, one distant and the other two shinning down a pale glow that touched everything with a gentle caress.

Rodney turned at the small sound at his side.

Sheppard was sitting beside him, knees bent and chin resting on his crossed arms. A seemingly casual pose, there was a hidden kind of tension in it, as if he were unsure. Rodney was unused to seeing Sheppard unsure.

"Sheppard?"

The man looked down at him, face shadowed by night.

"Why are we here?"

"To put you back to the way you were."

"How was I before?" Rodney asked slowly, trying to remember.

Sheppard sighed and fiddled with the black band on his wrist.

"The old Rodney and I were best friends, although I'm sure he wouldn't have admitted it. He was smart, smarter than anyone on Atlantis and perhaps earth. Abrasive and sometimes condescending, in the end he was always right. Well, most of the time anyway."

Rodney was silent as Sheppard spoke. He did not like that Sheppard referred to the old him as a separate person. As if Dr McKay was dead, and Rodney was trying to fill his place but wasn't quiet managing it.

It made him sad.

"How come I'm like this now?" He asked quietly

"You made a mistake." Sheppard whispered, finally looking at him.

It was Rodney who looked away first.

A mistake. He made a mistake.

~OO~

The next morning, everyone was up early. Zelenka and his crew were already working in the lab, pulling up immense amounts of data and information as Rodney entered. He watched them work curiously, noting the strange look on everyone's faces.

"What's wrong?" Rodney asked when he was standing beside Zelenka.

The short man looked down at him, opening and closing his mouth as if trying to decide whether he should tell Rodney what was actually on his mind or make something up. Rodney frowned up at him.

"Tell me, Radek, I'm not stupid." Although, once the words left his mouth, he had his doubts.

The Czech sighed, rubbing his eyes behind his glasses.

"We are having trouble deciphering some of the text. It is in code, but not like the code we have seen back on Atlantis. I have been trying all morning to fit a password into the program. But as of yet, I am having no luck."

Rodney pondered this, and pulled himself up to the console Zelenka was working at. Everything looked familiar, but not enough that he could understand all of it. There was, however, one paragraph that struck him right in the face.

He reached out and pointed to it.

"What's this?"

Zelenka squinted, leaning forward and pressing several panels until the paragraph took up the whole screen. Several of the other scientists who had been working around them looked up.

"I do not know, it is...I do not know."

Rodney ignored him and strode around the console and to the screen. He stared at it for a moment, and then tapped the screen absently.

"I recognize these symbols." He said slowly, tasting the words on his tongue to see if they were right. "I think...I think I knew what they meant before. Like they were important."

"Do you think so, perhaps...perhaps..." But Zelenka didn't sound sure, he tapped several panels but only a dull '_doop'_ sounded, signaling they were pressing the wrong sequences. Zelenka kept that up for almost half an hour, Rodney quickly lost interest and decided to check up on what some of the other scientists were doing.

A young woman, whose name eluded Rodney even then, was pulling apart a strange, useless looking device. Beside her sat a pile of blackened control crystals and blue wiring. Rodney stooped to scoop some of it up, intrigued by the clear crystal with the cool designs on it.

Sheppard found them around lunchtime, and ordered everyone to take a break. Rodney ignored him, his stomach had been swirling unpleasantly all day and the thought of food was not a nice one.

He liked playing with this crystals, they reminded him of something. Although he couldn't remember what...

Seeing something that caught his eye, Rodney pulled out an oval crystals. It was red, and small, fitting neatly in the centre of his palm. He thought he'd seen it somewhere before. One impulse, Rodney stood and went back over to the main control console. He looked it over, trying to see if the crystal fit anyway.

It did.

The alarm started up as soon as he slotted the crystal into place.

"Rodney!" He turned in fright to find Sheppard in the doorway, Ronon glaring over his shoulder at the deep red lights and the alarm. "What did you do?"

"I don't...I don' know!" he cried back, and tried to step away from the console and over to Sheppard. His foot hit the ground and everything back to shake.

"Sheppard?"

"Just stay where you are, Rodney! We'll come over to you!" Sheppard motioned for Ronon and they both began to hurry over.

The rock ceiling was shuddering.

"What's happening?" Rodney called out again, scared, he was frozen to the spot as he stared around him. The world was going to break!

And then there was the ear-splitting sound of rock cracking. Dust sifted down, followed by larger chunks and then heavier, painful rocks.

The cave collapsed on them in less than a minute, burying them in both debris and dirt. Rodney blinked once, feeling something tickle the side of his face. He choked on the too thick air as it filled his lungs and scratched his throat.

Darkness.

Intense black penetrated only by the echo of pain as he passed out.


	15. Limbo

**Forever End**

Chapter Fifteen

Ain't got no rainbow Ain't got no cellar door

It was, perhaps, the sound of his own heart thudding in his head that woke him.

He blinked sluggishly into the darkness, feeling the world shift in dizzying waves. Something cold and sharp was digging into the soft flesh of his lower stomach. Fluttering pain.

Rodney tasted something metallic rolling over the tip of his tongue, coating his teeth. And then he closed his eyes again.

~OO~

Rodney swing his feet back and forth. Back and forth. The sticky leather bus seat creaked with each movement. He cast a cursory glance at the back of the seat in front of him, gaze sliding over the crude drawings and swears scrawled across its surface. And then he saw a name, hidden right in the corner, neatly writing and small, as if the writer had not wanted anyone to see it but had been unable to stop themselves from writing it.

"Rodney was here."

Rodney cocked his head to one side, regarding the words with a lack of curiosity and tracing them with small fingers. It couldn't have been him, who had written that, couldn't have. Because he didn't remember writing it, didn't recall ever writing on a bus.

"_You_ may never have ridden on a bus, but_ I_ have." Rodney did not flinch when the harsh words disrupted the solid, yet somehow flimsy, silence. Suffocating. As if he were underwater.

But eventually he turned, just a fraction, so that he could look at the chubby figure sitting inn the seat across the aisle. Sharp blue eyes bore into his, unflinching.

"What?" Rodney's voice came out as a croaky whisper, but it seemed he was understood.

"Because you are not me, at least, not anymore. You are a…faded version. A copy. A poor imitation."

"But how can I not be you, I mean, we are the same person." Rodney queried nervously. "Aren't we?"

"No." McKay scoffed, rolling his eyes. "We are most certainly not the same person. I am Dr Rodney McKay. You are some kid with a weak IQ and no knowledge of Atlantis _or_ Earth. You are no one."

McKay sniffed derisively.

And Rodney stared at him for a long time, feeling something cold slither into the pit of his stomach.

McKay was gazing out the window of the bus, the strangely brown glare of an invisible sun spilling over his face. It reflected on floating particles of dust, giving the air inside the bus a polluted kind of appearance. Rodney sniffled, and wiped his nose with the sleeve of his jacket which, as it turned out, happened to be Sheppard's.

"Where are we?" Rodney asked after another moment.

McKay turned to glare at him.

"How the hell am I supposed to know? A bus. A bus in limbo- Look, kid, this is your mind. Solve your own damn problems." And with that, the older Rodney folded his arms over his stomach and returned his gaze out the window.

Sinking back into his seat, Rodney felt something tickle his nose and wiped his again.

"Don't be cruel, Dr McKay, he _is_ only a child."

At this voice, much more controlled and calm, Rodney felt something in his chest tighten and his throat burned with unshed tears. He squeezed his eyes tight shut and willed himself not to burst into tears. He could hear McKay retorting in the background, but waited another moment to open his eyes.

"I hate kids."

"Even though he's you?"

"He is _not_ me. I was never that stupid or snot nosed when I was that young."

Ladon's reply was too soft for Rodney to hear, but he gave him a gentle kind of smile when he looked up.

Ladon sat two seats ahead, arms resting on the back of his seat and his chin propped on his arms. He looked so very calm. Peaceful. His brown hair was smooth and his Genii uniform was neat and without wrinkles.

Rodney stared at Ladon as guilt and grief fought for reign, and eventually they settled for an uneasy mesh of both that had his stomach roiling sickeningly.

"Rodney," Ladon began comfortably. "It wasn't your fault, I know I'm dead, but I always know that I _am_ glad I could do something to help you, that you survived."

The bus was suddenly filled with an awkward kind of silence, and it was tainted only by the humorless snort McKay gave at the end of Ladon's speech.

"But if it hadn't been for me, you would never have been there, you wouldn't have been killed." Rodney whispered.

"Obviously."

Ladon sent McKay a disapproving look, but when he turned back to Rodney, his expression was once more kind. Something red bubbled at the corner of his mouth, tingeing his lips a dark scarlet. He didn't seem to notice.

"It was Kolya's fault we were in that situation, Rodney, and no one else's."

As if on cue, there was a flicker of movement out the corner of Rodney's eye, and he turned to stare at the newest figure to appear on the limbo bus.

There was a chilled silence, and then,

"Why is he here?"

Ladon was also looking at Kolya, mistrustful, resentful, and even McKay looked uncomfortable in the presence of their enemy. He shifted in his seat.

Kolya sat slumped against the bus window, several seats in front of them, all that could be seen of his face was a thin slice of his cheek and the point of his nose. Slack. Lifeless and grey. But whether from exhaustion, fear, or death, Rodney did not know.

"He is here because he's dead, or at least, partway dead." Ladon replied when the tension had grown thick.

Fear and surprise forced a strange sound from Rodney's lips. He looked at Ladon with horror.

"Am I dead!" He cried, and Ladon shook his head slowly, carefully.

"No, not yet. You're in between."

"I don't understand."

McKay huffed, but with less force, "Of course you don't, you're just a stupid kid."

Ladon sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face, smearing the blood from his lips over his chin.

"This is the place we go when we're on the verge of death, when our minds are not quiet ready to go and we need time to come to terms with it."

"I don't want to die."

Kolya did not move, did not react to the fact that he was dead.

"No one wants to die."

"But I never…I never…" Rodney felt the tears spilling then, a cascade of pain and terror that sizzled on his cheeks and dripped down his chin.

"You never lived, yes, yes, isn't that what they all say? Well, I have news for you, kids, you did live. You just don't remember." McKay finally snapped.

"Why are you doing this to him, Dr McKay?"

And McKay suddenly looked furious, he leapt from his seat and stood standing over them. His body was quivering, hands clenching and unclenching as if he couldn't decide whether he was angry or not. And there was a sense of desperation about him.

McKay pointed to Rodney, loomed over him.

"Thanks to this _kid_," he spat. "I am going to die. Thanks to _him_, the part of his mind that that houses me, that has suddenly been trapped in this idiotic, simple hell of a mind, is going to be lost. All because he is too _weak_ and too _stupid_ to keep himself alive!"

Rodney was shocked into silence. He didn't understand. He wasn't going to die, was he? This was limbo, not heaven….

"You need to have faith, Dr McKay. You need to believe that he will succeed. He is strong, and it's only your self doubt that forces you to think otherwise." Ladon said sharply, but then he looked resentful, as if he hadn't meant to.

"Without faith in ourselves, we have nothing."

McKay was still standing in the aisle, but now he looked wiltered, and pale. His previously sharp eyes were dulled, almost lifeless.

"I just want things to be the way they were." The older man muttered as he sank into the seat beside Rodney, close enough that he could detect the faint scents of mechanical dust and old blood. "I just want to go home, where I'm me. Nothing more and nothing less. The smartest man in two galaxies."

So sad, so listless.

On impulse, Rodney placed one small hand on McKay's arm, just above his wrist. He leaned forward so that he could look up into the older man's face, an incredible wave of guilt swamping him.

"I didn't mean to be stupid." He whispered, fighting tears. "I'm sorry I couldn't be you. I'm sorry this happened."

Silence. McKay said nothing, did not even look at him. Ladon was watching them both calmly. With an air of knowing.

"But he shouldn't be saying sorry, should he, Dr McKay?" Ladon said.

McKay's face twisted.

"What?" Rodney asked, feeling washed out and tired. He wanted to close his eyes and sleep.

"It wasn't your fault that you're in this situation Rodney, it's not you who disobeyed."

"Shut up." McKay snapped without force. "Just…just shut up."

The bus shuddered around them. Rodney peered tiredly out the window, there was strange flashes of blue and white in the gloomy brown. Sparks hit the window, soft at first, like the pattering of a little drizzle. And then the force grew, snow and then hail. Pebbles and then stones. Until the windows began to creak and bend and snap. Large cracks began to appear in the glass, a spider web of thin lines that spread outward like seating fingers looking for a weakness.

"Tell him, Dr McKay." Ladon shouted over the din. Over his face had blossomed a mass of deep bruises, tainting his skin and bleaching the color from his eyes. His hair was slick against his skin, beads of perspiration trickling down the bridge of his nose like small diamonds.

"I can't…" McKay pleaded, wringing his hands.

The buss was shuddering with more force, rocking back and forth. Kolya slipped from his chair and disappeared from sight, but Rodney's attention was on Ladon, who had risen from his seat and was standing a little ways ahead of them.

His Genii uniform was no longer neat and spotless. A large rip had been torn through the breast, threads glued by caked blood and something thicker. And from his temple burst a hole, glistening blood spattering the window beside him.

A small, crooked bullet was suddenly lodged in the window, adding even more pressure to the fractures and cracks. It was so close to shattering.

"It wasn't you who did this, Rodney, it was him, it was the adult McKay."

"I didn't mean it!" McKay suddenly cried, he threw his hands up into the air, covering his head.

Ladon screamed as he was thrown backward. And Rodney was left flying through the air, confused and terrified.

The glass shattered inwards, showering them all in deadly sharp shards that sliced their skin and buried deep toward their bone. The bus warped, writhing and twisting around him until the world was but fragments of inconsequential colors and meaningless words.

He was falling, but something else was trying to pull him upward. It felt to Rodney that there was a decision to be made. He had to choose. He had to decide. Had to.

Floating in , but not quiet.

Memories flooded Rodney mind, then. Worming their way into his thoughts and emotions like a disease, to which he had no antidote.

~OO~

"_I..I know."_

_"Really? Because I'm beginning to think that you just say that, that you pretend to know to make yourself look better."_

~OO~

_"I'm sorry, McKay."_

~OO~

_"Rodney! Calm down, you need to calm down."_

~OO~

_"There is only four of them, surprising considering that surely Kolya must know we're going to try to leave this planet. I'll lead them- Rodney, stay awake, okay? You need to stay awake if we're going to do this."_

~OO~

"_Aye! Rodney, I'm here, I'm here."_

~OO~

Lovely things. Ugly things.

A realization.

It had been a mistake. One mistake. But not his. _His_.

McKay had told him he was stupid, and weak and too young. But it had been he who had pressed the button, who had let himself get caught up in his own pride. A mistake. A big one.

And it was like something lit up in his chest, allowed him to breathe. He could do this, because it _wasn't_ his fault, not his fault he was like this and everything that had happened. Ladon had died, because of a mistake.

He couldn't dwell on the past. It would turn against him, boil his insides and melt his mind. He couldn't let guilt and grief and blame take his life. Because this wasn't _his_ life. It was McKay's.

And it wasn't his decision to give it up.

~OO~

"_Crap_."

Sheppard shifted immaturely, feeling the cold pain of rocks stabbing into him from all sides. And then there was the rush in his head, the smell of copper overwhelming his senses like something noxious and poisonous.

He let his head thump back to the dusty earth, coughing as it sifted into the air and threatened to choke him.

For several, long moment, Sheppard did nothing. Which was unusual for him, he was such an energetic being, always moving and talking and acting. But at that moment his body felt desolate of any energy at all. All he could do was lay there, being crushed by god-knows-how-much rock and ceiling, and try to get his mind to work properly.

He knew that the cave had collapsed, perhaps the sudden use after so long without a single visitor had stressed out the systems. Perhaps that was utter shit and they'd simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

And where was Rodney? He hadn't been far away, maybe a meter, a little less. If only he could stretch his arm out and reach….

Sheppard gave a loud groan as bolts of pain shot through his shoulder, bone grinding against bone until he thought he might scream. He slumped, letting the tension ease from his body, forcing himself to shove the pain aside. Because there were more important things to worry about. More important people.

Sucking in a deep breath, Sheppard shouted as loud as he could, calling for Rodney, for Ronon, for somebody. But his chest was too tight and he fell in to a bought of hacking coughs, huddling in on himself as rocks tumbled down his shoulders and struck his head.

When the coughing had subsided, he lifted his head and squinted around him. There was nothing, yet too much. Darkness hiding the rock prison. So small. But he'd been in worse. Yes. He had. Had to have been in worse situations. And he couldn't worry about himself, because Rodney was close by, probably scared and hurt. He had to get to him. And soon.

And then there was a sound.

A little sound. Barely a whimper, more of a whisper, or a cry. So soft that Sheppard thought he'd imagined it, but then it sounded again and his heart leapt.

Rodney!

Struggling now, pushing and shoving at the rocks despite the pain. Desperate to reach out, to get to Rodney and ignore the smothering darkness. Rocks and dirt tumbled around him, disturbed by his movements, but it felt to him that he had more leeway now, and could almost push forward. Pulling one knee up, he pushed. The other knee. Another push. Gaining a scant inch where he wanted to stretch a mile.

And then the sound again, but louder.

"Rodney! Rodney, can you hear me?" Sheppard shouted, voice a bare croak now, but still he shouted, hoping to elicit some response. "Rodney, please talk to me! Can you hear me? Rodney!"

Silence.

And then,

"Sheppard?"

Scared. He sounded so scared.

Anxious to reach the boy, Sheppard continued his uncaring assault on the rocks around him. He didn't notice the blood pooling beneath his chest or the tickle at his lips. He could ignore the grinding of his shoulder and the ache in his head. If only he could see!

A break in the rocks, easily pushed aside, Sheppard coughed as he struggled further into the small gape he'd made, his chest was awfully tight.

"Rodney?" He said more softly, but he could already feel the warm, soft presence of someone else nearby. Raising one hand revealed a small, shivering body just in front of him, damp with sweat but otherwise alive.

"Rodney, are you okay?" He asked so quietly it came out as but a murmur.

"Sheppard? I..I can't see." The small voice immediately filled Sheppard with relief. He closed his eyes briefly, and rubbed a numbing hand over Rodney's back.

"Yeah, me neither, mate."

"What happened? My stomach hurts." Rodney whimpered, and Sheppard felt him moving closer, burrowing into his neck. It was slightly awkward for Sheppard to keep his head raised, so he let it rest lightly on the boy's shoulder, relishing in the warmth emanating from the small boy's skin, but knowing it probably wasn't like that for a good reason.

"There was a cave-in, we were lucky we didn't get crushed." Sheppard said. Thinking of how awful it would have been to find Rodney's small, cold body so close by.

"But we _did_ get crushed." Rodney sniffled back weakly.

Sheppard curled one arm around the boy, worried that he would soon stop breathing. That he would disappear. And as much as he loved this boy, McKay had always been his best friend, and the possibility that he might never see him again was a torturous one. He hugged Rodney tighter.

"I know. Just try to stay calm and breathe slowly, we'll get out of here soon."

But soon seemed to go on forever. They stayed like that, Sheppard lying awkwardly on his stomach with his chin propped up on Rodney's shoulder, while the boy lay curled on his side, burrowed into Sheppard's chest like a small, warm hot water bottle.

They fell asleep.

At least, Sheppard fell asleep. He was finding it hard to breathe. Not because of the confined space, but because it felt to him like his lungs would not expand, would not allow him to suck in any breath, and it was easier just to pass out. The taste of copper was the last thing he noticed before losing consciousness, and even this he did not find especially interesting.

~OO~

Rodney knew Sheppard was asleep. Although his breathing was ragged and clipped, it was even where it had been erratic only minutes ago.

He was scared. Rodney felt alone now that Sheppard was asleep, as if he weren't there to protect him anymore.

But the feeling, that wave of hope and relief that had hit him as soon as Sheppard had broken through the rocks to reach him, was still lapping gently at his senses.

He buried his nose into Sheppard shoulder. Fighting the urge to sleep. His head was swaying in dizzying circles that should have been impossible in the darkness, but instead seemed intensified by it. The pain in his stomach was growing to fever pitch, but if he moved it grew worse. So he kept as still as he possible could, not moving an inch. Not even when there was sounds of life right above him head.

~OO~

For Carson, this was the day from hell. For one, he hated to go off-world, although he'd been willing to for Rodney. Second, he'd arrived, only to find that his boy was buried under a bloody mountain of rubble and rock!

And they'd been digging feverishly for several hours now. Ronon had been the first out, suffering only a minor concussion and a dozen or so cuts and bruises. A tough bloke, he'd insisted on helping unbury his teammates and Carson had been grateful. With the giant, work had steadily increased in speed.

It took another several hours to find those two still forms.

Sheppard was pulled out first, chest and face covered in scarlet blood and unresponsive. He was immediately rushed out and sent back to Atlantis, where Dr Biro was waiting for them.

Rodney, on the other hand, was pulled from the rubble by Carson himself. Small form curled tightly into a ball, conscious, but unwilling to acknowledge those around him.

Carson lamented anxiously at the amount of blood already covering his own hands. Cuddling the pale boy to his chest and hurriedly trying to locate the source of the blood. He found the wound in Rodney's stomach. Something had punctured his belly just bellow his navel, but it was too dark and Carson was shaking too much to actually see what it was.

He carried Rodney back to the Puddle Jumper himself.


	16. Atlantis

**Forever End**

Chapter Sixteen

And we'll be jolly friends Forever More

Perhaps five weeks is not too long, but for many of the inhabitants of Atlantis, it felt like years.

Five weeks since they'd seen any movement from the small boy. Five weeks of waiting and hoping and exhaustion and anxiety. Five weeks that crawled by because no one slept and the difference between day and night was almost non-existent. Yes, light shifted, stars blossomed and then wilted and the sun would fade into the distant reaches of the creaseless ocean surrounding them. But to them, night was not designated for sleeping, just as the morning was not specifically ruled by breakfast. They moved and breathed and ate and talked, but always they were tailed by that worry, that niggling doubt that maybe, maybe soon, that little body would cease its fighting and an alarm would sound through the pristine walls of Atlantis.

Carson worried. He worried because he was only doing what he knew, not helping, barely keeping his boy alive, not fixing, not healing. At least, that's what it felt like. He was useless, and Rodney was suffering for it.

He told the others that there was improvement. When in fact there had been setback or faltering. Rodney's breathing would stutter and he had to be put on a respirator. His heart would lurch and monitors would shriek a protest of alert. Infection and weakness, deteriorating and having to lie about it.

Carson was sick at heart because he knew, knew that everyone had given up hope long ago and now they were just waiting. Waiting for Rodney to die. Because, really, it seemed the only ending to this, for a vital member of the expedition and their tightly knit family, to wilter and die.

The only ending.

Rodney could not stay like this forever. Carson could not even be sure the lad's mind was still whole, but the idea of speaking this things was impossible. Impractical in manner because any uncertainty voiced to those around him would create panic and chaos and a vital piece of their façade would be broken. Their pretense of optimism and lightness would crack and crumble and give way to that abyss of knowing where hope was the last thing on their minds.

It was a hefty weight for Carson to bear, yet he carried it everywhere with him, never wavered or slumped. Because it was his job, his duty, to keep peace in this world, he was the healer, the one to make things right. And he would not fail them. Not until the very end.

And so, sitting around the conference table with his hands shaking as he held the sheets listing Rodney's ailments, he told them all what they wanted to hear.

"Improving as I expected." He said.

"But it may be a while before the lad wakes up." He added.

And then, almost as an afterthought, "We've all got to keep our spirits up, he's relying on us, as we used to him, and we need to talk to him, and comfort him."

It was so hard, for Carson always talked to Rodney. And he knew the lad was listening. But it broke his heart to think that, as much as he might want to, Rodney would not wake up. Could not.

The nature of his injuries were doubled in severity by the state of his body and mind. He would have coped better had he been his normal height, weight, mentality. That being said, nothing would sure in the medical world, things changed and miracles happened, lives were returned and hopes strengthened.

Just as body decayed and minds wiltered to a deadened, blackened minefield of disease and misgivings.

Carson said this to Rodney, once, said that he had to return, or he would die. Had to wake up or his mind would be lost. An awful thing to say to a child, and Carson had retreated to his office soon after, but he'd still held the hope that 'adult Rodney' was still in there and listening, somewhere.

Perhaps an idealistic expectation, maybe something more. But Carson never gave up. He might, on a rare occasion, think the situation impossible. But he never gave up.

And he wouldn't. Not for Rodney.

For Rodney, he would do anything.

He went to Radek, said to Radek as the smaller man squinted at him through reddened eyes, "Have ye got anything?"

Radek was not accustomed to the kindly doctor begging, he stuttered for several moments, pulled off his gloves and let them fall to his workbench.

"No, Carson." Radek said shortly. "But perhaps." He ran a hand in fustration down his face. He looked so tired, but then, these people never slept, they were crawling through the days with indifference to their bodies needs.

Carson said nothing, holding his breath.

"I have been reading through crystal, the one found in Rodney's stomach, and there has been some interesting things."

"What things? What have ye got anything that might help Rodney?" Carson asked in a hushed tone, almost reverently. Too hopeful.

"Maybe, but Carson?"

"Aye, lad?"

"There might be the chance that even if we do find a…cure for Rodney, something to return him to the way he was, it might be…too late."

Yes, too hopeful, and now something was withering in Carson's chest, threatening to strangle him. He ran a hand down his chin, feeling the stubble and thinking he should probably shave. And then thinking, what's the point?

"Rodney's in a bad way, Radek," Carson whispered lightly. "He won't last much longer either way, I'm afraid."

Radek did not gasp in shock, he did not blame Carson or tell him he was incompetent. No, he did not seem surprised, shocked by the realization, but not overly so. He had expected as much, everyone had. But it was actually voicing it that had the most effect. No one said, muttered or whispered the critical condition of their chief scientist. A silent agreement, as it were.

"But what have ye got, Radek, have ye figured out how to revert him?"

The small Czech rubbed his eyes. It was hard to explain the nature of his research to someone like Carson, someone who relied on viable, tangible evidence to support supposed fact. But he tried, he tried because he respected the doctor, and he was not stupid.

"There is a lot of data to extract from the crystal, Carson. I have been having tough time deciphering it without…without Rodney. But I am confident that I do, yes, very confident that I do have something that might help. But it is not the information that is troubling me. It is what the information is _telling_ me."

Carson furrowed his brow. "Pardon?"

"I have read that, in order to turn Rodney back to himself, we need to build a..a..well, the Ancient's did not have a name for it. But we have to build a replica of the device that turned him into a child in the first place. With this crystal inserted I am confident that we can effectively remove the damage done."

"Do ye're saying..."

"Yes, yes it is possible to turn Rodney back."

And it was so, that small conversation, that woke the whole of Atlantis, whether they knew it or not. The city would have its smartest man back, all would be right.

Or would it?

What if the device was not completed correctly? What if something went wrong? What if…

Carson could not stop himself from thinking these thoughts, they were dissuadable. Unstoppable. He wanted the device to be built so that Rodney could be changed back.

But then, he didn't, because he did not want the chance that Rodney would not be changed back. That he would die.

"He'll die, either way." Carson found himself say, sitting by Rodney's bed _deathbed_ with his small hand engulfed in Carson's own.

"It's not my choice." He added, squeezing the hand.

"And I can't take away his life on a selfish whim."

~OO~

"Do you think he'll remember?"

"Perhaps. He remembered himself before….."

Sheppard nodded, but did not take his eyes off the small, familiarly limp form in the large bed. Rodney was covered in blankets, both infirmary and from the mainland. He recognized one of Teyla's, she'd been making it earlier on.

"Before he lost himself." Sheppard finished quietly. He knew. He knew as well as Carson how fast Rodney's mind had deteriorated.

"We can only hope." Carson said, so whisper quiet that Sheppard had to lean in to hear.

"What?"

"It would be good for him to forget."

Sheppard was quiet. He didn't agree. Yet. He didn't disagree.

"Too much has happened to him, too much, I think that…I think that it would damage the older Rodney to remember everything. He hides behind pride, behind an arrogance and a harshness towards others. But really, Colonel, he's not like that to everyone."

"I know, Beckett. He'd my friend too." Sheppard said.

Carson looked at him, a little alarmed, "I didn't mean to say ye weren't his friend, Colonel, only that others don't understand."

"I know! I mean, I know, Rodney has the right to be a little arrogant. I suppose. But he's not spiteful." Sheppard said quickly, cutting Carson off before he could go on. He hadn't been offended, merely speaking truth.

They stared at Rodney for a while, then, this small little body housing a genius's brain. Unbelievable, but stranger had happened in the Pegasus galaxy.

He pulled a vacant chair next to Beckett and sat down, the creak of the plastic the only sound aside from the bleeps and hiccups of the monitors.

It was relatively cold in the infirmary, for which Sheppard was even more grateful for the many blankets piled atop Rodney, with only his head visible in the cocoon.

Goosebumps rose up alone Sheppard's arms, and he noticed a likewise element on Beckett. Except the Doctor did not seem to notice, he appeared lost in thought as he stared at their silent friend, with dark purpled smudges beneath his kind eyes and several days worth of growth on his face. He looked haggard, but that was to be expected, and Sheppard felt the same, too. He hadn't looked in the mirror, so he could not comment on his own appearance.

"Beckett." He said after a time, when he felt so tired his muscles began to ache and his head to spin.

The Doctor was roused from his revere, and peered at Sheppard with equally exhausted eyed.

"Aye?"

"I wish it were me, not him."

Beckett eyed him sadly.

"Aye, lad, so do I."


	17. Missing Steps

**Forever End**

Chapter Seventeen

Friends….

_"I wish it were me, not him."_

And it was easy to pretend that these words did not bother him. But they did. They really did. It felt like something inside of him was burning, ripping, trying to tear its way out of him.

His soul, perhaps. Perhaps it had grown tired of his self-pity. Self-destruction.

Rodney paused in his thoughts.

Something was different. Something was….

"His heart rate is going up."

"Rodney, Rodney can you hear me?"

Hands on his face, gentle. Hurried. Desperate.

It still hurt.

"Is it working?"

It hurt.

"Beckett!"

"I know! But we've started up the systems now and I can't be sure his body would cope with the strain if we were to shut it off so suddenly!"

"But…"

Breath on his face, warm puffs scalding his cheeks and nose. He could hear the little catch as someone fought not to cry. And then a high, keening sound filled his ears. It went on and on, it pained him to hear it, but also confused him.

And then he realized it was him or, at least, the sound was coming from him. He had no control over it, his body was working of its own accord.

Pain shot down his back, littering sharp spikes along his spine that grew until they spread darts of fire out into his limbs like seeking missiles. His body shuddered, limbs shaking in a wonky dance that had his muscles tensing and loosening so quickly he began to cramp.

"We're losing him!"

A dull roar in his ears, like being sucked beneath an ocean and trying to listen to the sounds from above the surface. Wave after wave crashed upon him, until it was all he could hear. Disheartened, Rodney tried to seek out Carson's voice. But where he had once been, there was a great, silent void.

He could still feel, hands touching his throat, his wrists and his chest.

And there was something alive within his chest. He could feel _that_. Certainly. It hurt, but not in any normal sense. It thrummed through his body, like a caged bird, or a bear raking its claws down his ribs.

He cried out.

And consciousness fled.

~OO~

The first thing he heard was the rasp of someone's breathing filling the silence.

He strained, forcing his awareness outward and forward. He could feel, could smell and hear and even see, when he managed to open his eyes. He blinked up at the ceiling, smooth, flawless. _Atlantis_.

"You are awake."

Rodney blinked, blearily, up at the figure now standing beside him, uniform a mess and eyes such a pale white. Ladon.

"Y-yes." Rodney gasped, feeling such a terrible ache somewhere deep in his chest.

He sat up despite it, wanting to be aware, to see around him as he had not before.

He was in the infirmary, but not. The room was the same, empty beds and medical machines, plastic chairs and folded curtains. But there was no one, no one but he and Ladon to fill the silence and the loneliness. He looked up at the dead man.

"I'm dead?" He asked quietly, feeling his lips quiver. He was so tired.

Ladon looked down at him with something akin to pity, "No," he said, "Not yet."

And then he added, "Because you have to decide."

Rodney closed his eyes in exhausted frustration. He was so sick of being given choices, why couldn't someone else just make them for him? So that he would not have to.

"Choices are what make us human, without them people feel cheated, without choices we are but sheep at the beck and call of the sheppard." Ladon replied softly, even though Rodney had not spoken aloud.

But then, Rodney frowned.

"How do you know about sheep? And sheppards? You aren't from Earth."

"I am not real, Rodney. I am a part of your subconscious, speaking to you in this form so that it is easier for you." Ladon replied solemnly.

"But…but what about the real Ladon?" Rodney asked, sinking back into the bed, pulling the blankets up to his chin and shivering.

"Dead. You know he's dead."

"No, I didn't see it, how could I possibly know that?" It came out as but a whisper.

Ladon sighed, and sat the edge of Rodney's bed, Rodney felt it dip beneath his weight.

"You did, Rodney, you saw him lying in the snow, there was blood around him, and he was not breathing. You heard them saying it, heard them blame Colonel Sheppard with anger and resentment. You know he's dead."

"Sheppard…." And Rodney _could_ see it now, clearly. He remembered in half formed flashes of snow and red and reaching hands and tears. He felt acutely the desperate grief he had felt then.

"It was not Colonel Sheppard's fault." Ladon said.

"How do you…how do I know that?" Rodney asked in a quavering voice, unsure whether he wanted to hear the answer or not.

"Because we know Sheppard, he's our best friend." Rodney jumped, he hadn't seen adult McKay sitting on the bed across from him. He looked sad, fretful.

"But he….he killed you...him. Why?" Rodney asked.

Ladon just looked at him, pity in his eyes. He said nothing. But, really, Rodney did not need him to say anything.

Minutes ticked by, or perhaps it was longer, and Rodney was feeling more and more tired. At some stage, McKay must have come closer, because he was standing beside his bed when Rodney next opened his eyes. He stared up at his older self, wondered at the strange look on his face, it was a mix between acceptance and longing. But for what, Rodney did not know.

"What now?" he asked, fighting the heaviness in his limbs and the urge to sleep. It would be so easy…

"You have to decide." Ladon replied.

A droplet of blood rolled down his hand and off the tip of his finger, the sound of it hitting the ground was loud in the crisp silence.

Rodney felt something twinge inside his chest, phantom hands pulling at him from every direction, and the push of cool air over his nose and mouth did nothing to help the sudden feeling of claustrophobia and suffocation that swamped him. He began breathing heavily, harshly.

Ladon rested a hand gently on his back.

"Calm down, Rodney, what you're feeling is reality. It means you're closer to waking up." He said.

Hope and terror mingled in the air, Rodney gazed up at the two men hovering above him in question.

"Will you be there? Will you be back to normal?" He asked of adult McKay.

The other man sighed, and looked distinctly uncomfortable. He shrugged.

"Perhaps." Was all he said.

Out of the corner of his eyes he saw the shifting of shadowy figures.

Rodney frowned in consternation. He didn't want to wake up if nothing was going to change, but neither did he want to die. He didn't want to fall into the perpetual darkness. The abyss. He didn't.

Conflicted, he turned pleading eyes to Ladon.

"Will you decide for me?" He asked desperately.

"No, I'm sorry, Rodney, but this is up to you, and you have to make your choice without our influence."

McKay said nothing.

He sat there for a long time, feeling his chest tighten around his heart and lungs, threatening to squeeze the life out of him. There was something scratchy at the back of his throat. He pulled the blankets off his lap and pulled his knees up to his chest. He was scared, worried, but mostly tired. He just wanted to sleep.

"What about Kolya?" He said eventually, and Ladon and McKay looked at one and other.

"Alive. For now." Ladon said smoothly, as if he were hiding something.

"Yeah, I'm not sure how long _that_ bastard will last in Atlantis." McKay added with a gleam in his eye.

"He's on Atlantis?"

"Yeah, they're holding him prisoner and I suspect, if you die, he will too."

"Oh?"

"Hmm."

There was silence.

"How is it possible, to simply will something, and for it to become reality?" He asked.

"The mind is a powerful thing, Rodney." Ladon said.

"And this machine, it relies on will power, it needs the subject to want to change back." McKay added.

"How do you know they're using a machine or something?"

McKay shrugged. "I heard them talking about it."

"Oh."

Silence.

"I'll do it." Rodney whispered tightly, feeling the sudden longing to return to the realm of the living. "I'll go back."

"Okay." Was all Ladon said. "Will you remember?"

Rodney peered up at him.

"Will I?"

And then there was pain.

~OO~

He was screaming, but his voice was wearing thin.

He struggled. Hands, cold, rubbery hands, held him down. He whimpered, thrashing. He wanted to get away, he wanted relief from the agony and the burning and the noise in his head. But it was not all noise. He was getting flashes, masses of information that set his teeth on edge and had tears spilling down his cheeks.

He cried out for someone to help him.

"Sheppard!" He shrieked. "Carson! Please!" But there was nothing, he couldn't see, and so he had only those rough hands to comfort him as the pain reached breaking point.

He couldn't breathe, he couldn't…_breathe_.

Noises, voices, warbled and broken.

Hid body began to slow, like a clock ticking, his heart thump thump_ thumped_. But it, too, was slowing down. Without his body to breathe, his chest did not move, and it was a small comfort, because the less he moved, the less it hurt.

And his heart had slowed so much….

Thump

_Tha_-thump

Thump

_Tha_-thump

Thump

Tha-_thunk_.

Peace. That's what it felt like, such peace. No longer moving, there was no pain. Come to think of it, there wasn't much of anything. Except for the information that kept bombarding him. It was not so much that all the information was new, but that it was resurfacing, fighting against the cobwebs and restraints that had held it in place, hidden. But it was so much, _too_ much to handle all at one time, and he was left reeling even as he began to fade into unconsciousness.

Lightening sizzled through him, striking his very core.

Rodney's body arched, before falling limply back to the bed.

He could hear them moving, distantly, could hear far-away voices muttering into his ear. Sounds faded again, his heart did not restart.

Another bolt hit him, and once again he fell back to the bed.

A moment passed. Two. And then his eyes flew open, his back arched and he drew in a sharp, ragged breath. Sound and light and noise exploded all around him in one sharp burst. He could feel a steady ache, his bones stretching and his heart now beating so hard and fast inside his ribcage.

Panic slithered through him, and he had enough sense left, a moment before he passed out, to whisper:

"I'll remember."

~OO~

"Rodney?" Someone was whispering in his ear. Were they trying to wake him up? Was he even asleep?

"How is he?" Another voice added, a little harsher, familiar.

"He's…he's…well, ye can see how he is."

The rustle of clothes moving closer and a warm, rather clammy, hand wrapping around his own. It felt unreal, he felt detached.

"McKay? You in there, buddy?" It was Sheppard, something settled in the pit of Rodney's stomach, calming. "Can he here me?"

He was drifting in his own body, still trapped by the cage of his ribs so that he did not loose himself entirely. The blankets were a heavy weight.

"Aye, at least, I'd like to think he can, otherwise I've been talking to myself for the past several hours." Carson replied with a rather forced cheerfulness.

Rodney felt himself floating.

"Right, McKay? Open your eyes if you can hear me, come on, open your eyes." Sheppard said quietly.

They couldn't see his awareness falter and dim, couldn't feel his muscles relax completely as he gave into the gentle, but persistent, tug of sleep.

~OO~

"When will he wake, Dr Beckett?"

They were talking in hushed voices, as if he would suddenly wake if they were too loud. Rodney would have told them to keep the noise down anyway, but his lips remained sealed and his eyes rolled uselessly beneath heavy lids.

"I don't know, Lass. I'd like to think soon, but I can't say for sure. His wounds were severe even before we used the device on him, and the strain on his body would most likely slow the healing process." Carson replied kindly. He sounded tired.

"Very well, Carson, I will see you soon."

"Aren't ye going over to the mainland?" There was a shuffle of feet on the floor by his bed.

"Yes, I will be there for several days, but Dr Weir promised to keep me updated on Rodney's condition." Teyla said.

There was a murmured goodbye. Rodney heard the hiss of the doors opening and closing and then someone sighed.

"I don't know if ye can hear me, lad, I really don't. But I don't know what else to do, what else to say to them. They need reassurance, and it's all I can give them." Carson muttered.

Rodney heard the screech of a chair being pulled up closer to the bed. A heavy hand fell onto his arm, and rested there. And for the first time, Rodney could feel it, out of all the periods of his semi-awareness, he could actually feel the warmth of Carson's hand. It sank through skin and blood and bone and surged up his arm to his shoulder.

"It's up to ye, Rodney, though. Anything I do medically will heal your body, but it's up to ye to decide to wake up. And I think ye know that." The Scottish brogue thickened. "And I think I understand why ye don't want to wake up. So much has happened, ye've been through so much. I only wish there was a way to let ye forget. It would be so much easier that way."

Rodney would have frowned, had he the capability. Why was Carson saying these things?

"Nay, lad, ye shouldn't have to remember these things."

There was a long pause. Rodney did not sleep, no, his body seemed intent on keeping him awake yet prisoner in his own body. He could only listen to everything around him. Everything that was said.

"I like to think I know ye, Rodney, I like to think we're friends. And I know its hard for ye to admit that ye like people in return, but sometimes I wish ye'd just say it. Ye're a harsh person, on the outside, Rodney, but inside ye're good, and people don't see how good ye are because ye hide behind ye're arrogance."

Why was Carson saying all this?

Was he dying? Oh, god, he was dying and Carson was saying his last goodbyes.

He could feel himself panicking, heart thrumming against his ribcage and eyes rolling feverishly behind closed lids. He wanted so much to open them, he wanted to turn and glare at Carson and ask him what the hell his problem was.

He tried to move his mouth, his face, anything. Of course, nothing happened. And he sank into an uneasy state of listless fugue where names and places and faces swam in and out of focus like a myriad of pieces to a puzzle he just couldn't quiet place.

~OO~

Carson sipped his tea, wishing he'd gotten a coffee instead.

The infirmary was quiet, only the muffled snores of one Major Lorne sleeping off a mild concussion and the crisp turn of pages as Sheppard pretended to read in the bed beside Rodney's. The colonel looked dreadful, Carson was sure he hadn't slept since they'd gotten Rodney back. But then, he himself had barely managed to get any shut-eye.

He sighed.

"Ye should be sleeping, Colonel." Carson said as he made his way over to the other man.

Sheppard gave him a look, and rubbed a hand down his face. He put the book flat on his chest.

"I know, Beckett, but I just…I can't leave McKay. I need to be here when he wakes up." Sheppard said tiredly. He sank back into the pillows propping him up and crossed his feet at the ankles, showing that he was ready for the long haul.

"I understand, Sheppard. I really do. But I am a Doctor, I really think ye should be sleeping. Even if it is where ye are now." Carson chastised wearily. And to his surprise, the Colonel nodded in agreement and settled himself even deeper into the bed.

Next, Carson moved to check on Rodney. Carefully making sure his vitals were stable and everything was as it should be. It was pointless, he'd checked up on him less than ten minutes ago, but he couldn't help it. When he looked up next, Sheppard was sound asleep.

Smiling ever so slightly, Carson snatched a spare blanket off one of the opposing beds and settled it around the sleeping Colonel. That done, he trudged back to his office, dropping onto the temporary cot he seemed to be using ever more frequently these days. He fell sleep with doubts and grief swirling and spinning through his mind.

~OO~

It was the little gasp that woke Lorne from his dream, although he didn't know it as he blinked in confusion at the infirmary ceiling. He remembered, vaguely, sparring with Ronon in the afternoon, but everything after that was a blur.

He groaned, and sat slowly, clutching his pounding head.

He wanted nothing more than a little morphine and to fall back to sleep.

Movement at the corner of his eyes drew his attention. He saw Sheppard, sleeping like the dead in the bed across from him, one booted foot hanging over the edge of the bed, out of the blanket. And next he saw Rodney, twitching beneath his own blankets.

Awake.

Panic flit through Lorne's mind first, indecision was next. Should he wake Sheppard? Should he go find Dr Beckett? Who was he supposed to call? Wasn't somebody supposed to be watching McKay?

Lorne groaned as he shuffled out of the bed, wincing when his bare feet hit the icy floor. He forced himself over to the scientist's bed.

"Hey, easy McKay. You alright?" It probably wasn't what you were supposed to say to someone when they'd just woken up from a coma, but he couldn't think of anything else, and his head was still pounding in time to his heart.

McKay's eyes rolled to him, bleary, it took a moment for them to focus, but he seemed to relax once he realized it was Lorne standing over him. His fingers twitched, and then his lips.

On impulse, Lorne grabbed McKay's hand tightly between his own. He sat dizzily on the edge of the bed.

"You okay? You need me to get Beckett?" Lorne asked quietly, wondering what the hell he was doing. He really should wake Sheppard.

McKay's mouth worked, he looked a little alarmed.

"No…no, not just yet. I…" he swallowed, his voice was croaky but Lorne couldn't see any water jugs nearby. "I need to know if I'm…If I'm back to normal…now."

Lorne stared at him for a long moment, and McKay stared back.

Eventually he murmured quietly, and in some confusion, "Yeah, yeah, you're back to your old self, McKay."

The tension seemed to ooze out of the scientist so quickly Lorne thought he might pass out. But then his blue eyes were searching Lorne's again, and the Major felt strangely guilty for some reason.

"What do you remember, McKay?" He asked on a whim, but it only made him feel guiltier.

There was a flash of something in McKay's eyes, panic, fear, anger. But then he looked carefully blank, and tired. Beyond tired.

"Nothing. I remember nothing."

~OO~

The days sped by after that, Rodney felt detached from everything and everyone, but he tried to hide it. He suspected that Sheppard was on to him, that he could see the wariness in his friend, but, thankfully, the Colonel said nothing.

Carson ran tests, prodded and poked and inquired. But Rodney only gave him the bare minimum. It was hard to talk, hearing his usual, somewhat snappish voice instead of the high-pitched and young one he'd become accustomed to. People visited, but Lorne was his constant companion for the first couple of days, recovering from a severe concussion and peering at him from across the infirmary.

For Rodney, Lorne was an easy person to be around during that time. He asked no questions and expected nothing from him. Save the occasional conversation when they both got bored with the monotony of daily infirmary life. Those conversations were awkward and stilted, but the more he talked, the easier Rodney found it.

Sheppard came to him on the second week, the awkward smile he carried accompanying the proclamation that he was to be released from the infirmary. Rodney thought he should have felt happy, pleased in the very least, but he felt only a gnawing exhaustion. He forced a smile at Sheppard and allowed one of the nurses to remove the IV.

"Good to be going." He said, forced cheerfulness a bad façade and the smile slipped immediately. Sheppard said nothing.

"Aye! You're ready to go, but if ye feel out of sorts at all, any dizziness, headaches or disorientation, ye come back immediately." Carson fussed, but happily. He'd been rather chipper since Rodney had awoken, everyone had, and to Rodney it had begun to get kind of creepy. He just wanted the solitude of his own quarters.

"Yes, yes, Carson, I know. No need to worry." Rodney snipped, but without much heat. "Now, I'd like to go rest in my quarters if you don't mind, some peace and quiet would be awful nice. With a coffee. And cake. And my laptop."

Sheppard nodded to Carson in amusement and led the scrub-clad Rodney out of the infirmary. It was the middle of the day, people were milling about, and when they entered the first main hallway, all eyes turned on them. Rodney shrank back against Sheppard.

He didn't want to do this. Not now. Not ever. He didn't want to see all of these people.

He grabbed a hold of the back of Sheppard's jacket, knuckles pressed tight into his friend's back. Sheppard looked back at him slightly, and Rodney tried to convey his reluctance to do this now, with everyone in front of them. He just couldn't bring himself to come up with some snappish retort.

"Come on, McKay, that coffee isn't going to make itself." Sheppard said loudly, and slightly forcefully, eyeing those in the hallway with a warning they couldn't ignore. Many of them startled slightly, and hurried on their way. While others lingers, muttering to each other.

Rodney stuck close to Sheppard until they reached the transporter, where he reluctantly uncurled his fingers and stepped back into the confines of the small chamber, Sheppard close at his heels. The silence was uncomfortable.

Rodney was tired. He could feel himself getting lightheaded, his legs quivering in exertion. This was the most he moved since waking up in the infirmary. He felt weak and fragile, yet at the same time heavy and lethargic. He wanted so very much to sleep for the next few weeks, and when he woke everything would be back to normal.

The wounds in his chest had healed, mostly, allowing him the freedom of movement without too much pain. But he was on strong painkillers most of the time, so he couldn't truthfully say whether there was any pain at all.

He snuck a glance at Sheppard, now walking confidently down the hallway to their quarters.

He looked tired, haggard, but somewhat happy, relieved.

Rodney wish he could have felt the same. But the strain of keeping everything to himself was great. He was not used to it. Usually he told Sheppard everything, as his best friend it was only right. But now…

"What's wrong, McKay?" Sheppard softly spoken question roused him from his revere, and he blinked in surprise at his door. Sheppard was standing beside him, watching him carefully.

"Nothing. Just thinking." McKay whispered, feeling like he was going to break and spill the beans.

"You sure? Because you can tell me anything, I mean, even if you don't remember."

"No, I….really Sheppard, I think I just….I just need some time to myself." He muttered quickly and the door to his quarters opened for him. He glanced back in time to see Sheppard's face. Disappointment etched into every weary line.

Rodney collapsed onto his bed with a strangled sigh.

Now that he was alone, he wasn't sure it was what he wanted. Everything was too quiet and too still, after several weeks in the infirmary, where there was always an undercurrent of movement and action and chatter. He lay back on the bed.

It was cold in his room, the blankets, even when wrapped around him, offered no comfort. He rolled onto his side, ignoring the pinch of the stitches in his chest, and stared at the door.

It would be easy, wouldn't it? To escape the confines of his quarters and make his way down to the holding cell, where Kolya was being kept.

A sharp flutter of panic hit him at the thought. No, he wouldn't go and see Kolya. He couldn't. Not yet, at least.

After a long while he forced his mind to switch off and settled into his pillow more firmly. Sleep was uneasy and fitful.

He woke several hours later, and it was evening.

Rodney lay in bed quietly for some time, contemplating. And then he groaned, and made his way into the bathroom, stripped off his scrubs and stepped beneath the scalding jets of the shower. He stayed there until his skin was flushed red and he thought he might pass out from the heat. He dressed in his usual uniform, the black shirt hanging off him slightly and the waist of his pants a little loose. But it felt good to be back in normal clothes that didn't smell of antiseptic or sickness.

He still didn't have a radio or earpiece, and it left him feeling strangely vulnerable. But he forced himself to shrug it off and left his quarters as quietly as possible. He didn't really know where he was going.

The halls felt eerie, everyone must have been in the mess, enjoying themselves and their routine. Rodney envied them.

He shouldn't have felt alone. There were people who would welcome him and comfort him if he wanted. But it wasn't really comfort he craved, but the feel of normalcy and of staying in his lab for hours and drinking too much coffee. He wanted Sheppard to come in and drag him away from his work and force him to eat something and joke with him and not act like he was a…

Rodney stopped walking.

He'd been a child.

Everyone had seen him as a child. Everyone had witnessed his deterioration from genius to simpleton. It was humiliating. Shameful. He wished he could take it all back. But he knew he made the right choice in remember everything that had happened. It meant that he understood the stares he received and the whispered words no one thought he could hear behind his back.

He resumed his quick amble.

But surely they would not keep him from his work for too long, the city needed him. _He_ needed the city. Atlantis was his home, and he didn't feel right unless he was fixing something or perfecting something.

Rodney ran his hand along the wall, feeling it hum beneath his fingers.

"I'm home." He murmured quietly.

~OO~

Four weeks later and Sheppard shifted uncomfortably in his seat, no one was saying anything, they were all waiting for Rodney.

"No matter what happens to McKay, he just can't quiet seem to grasp the concept of time." Lorne said into the silence and Sheppard bestowed him with a small smile.

Weir coughed delicately.

"On the subject of McKay," She began slowly, meeting everyone's eyes in turn. "How is he settling back in?"

No one said anything for a moment, because, to be honest, Rodney was acting as if nothing had happened.

"He says he doesn't remember…" Sheppard muttered weakly, running a finger over the edge of the table, careful not to meet anyone's gaze lest they see the misgivings in his own.

"Aye, the device seems to have removed the memories, and he's doing well physically, it was downright dreadful trying to keep him from going back to work early, but I think the lad is doing very well." Carson said brightly. Weir nodded.

"I am somewhat skeptical." Teyla murmured calmly, leaned forward in her chair. She looked at Ronon, and then at Sheppard. Both nodded in agreement.

"Why do you say that, Teyla?"

"It is just…Rodney has not been the same since, and I am under the impression that there is something he is not telling us." Teyla finished.

"He remembers." Ronon stated bluntly.

"Good going, Ronon." Sheppard mumbled and Ronon just stared at him.

Weir was frowning.

"But he said he didn't, and Dr Beckett is sure-"

"Well, actually, there's no way for us to determine whether he does remember or not. He tell me he doesn't, and I believe him." But there was a quaver of doubt in Carson's voice.

Zelenka, who had so far been silent up until this point, sat a little higher in his chair. "But what are we going to do about it?" He asked.

Sheppard met Teyla and Ronon's gaze again and said simply:

"Nothing."

"But-"

The sound of hurried footsteps and harsh breathing stopped Zelenka mid-sentence and they all looked to the entrance in time to see Rodney hurrying through, laptop under one arm and a coffee cup in the other hand. He froze when he noticed them all looking at him.

"Uh, did I miss something?" He asked. Sheppard patted the seat next to him, and was relieved when Rodney took it without hesitation.

"No, Rodney, we were just about to begin."

Later that day, they were sitting in the mess.

It was well after lunch but the three of them had only just had time to get something to eat, and sat at one of the empty tables in the far corner. Rodney was already halfway through one of his two sandwiches with his eyes fixed the laptop screen in from of him, he tapped for a few minutes before frowning.

Sheppard leaned over and pushed the laptop shut.

Rodney stared at him. But said nothing.

"Rodney…." Teyla began, looking at him with something akin to sympathy. "We should really talk. We're your friends. We're a team."

When she got no response Ronon added, "We know you better than anyone."

Still, nothing.

The seconds stretched into minutes. Sheppard decided to hit the nail head-on.

"Tell us what happened at Kolya's base."

Rodney gagged, paused, and then leaned over his tray to spit out a chunk of half chewed sandwich. He sat back with such a look of utter distaste that Sheppard cringed. Ronon and Teyla were staring at him angrily.

"Rodney, you don't…" Teyla's voice was soft, but Rodney had already leaned back in his seat, and then stood.

His mouth worked for a few seconds, and then he walked away, leaving his laptop and half-eaten lunch behind him.

They watched him leave silently.

"Why did I ask that?" Sheppard whispered, still craning his neck to watch Rodney, the others gave no reply.

~OO~

Rodney thought he was going to pass out before he got to his quarters.

He felt hot and sticky and ice cold all at once and his legs were threatening to buckle. The hallways swam around him and he could barely see the people that watched him apprehensively as he passed.

Why did Sheppard have to ask? Why did he have to bring it up?

Rodney had thought he was safe, so many weeks without anyone saying anything, so many weeks of beginning to feel normal again and Sheppard had to go and ruin it.

He stumbled into the transporter and tapped the map quickly, before anyone could see where he was headed. The doors hissed shut and he felt the weightless sensation before they opened again and he stepped out.

He didn't know why he was doing it. The sudden panic had made him desperate. He needed to see him, he needed to talk to Kolya.

There were two guards outside the holding area, and they peered at Rodney curiously as he approached, Rodney did not recognize either of them. He supposed that was a good thing, because as he entered he could not suppress the shudder that rippled through him.

The cell stood in the center of the room. It was cold, goosebumps rose up along Rodney's and he shot a panicked look back as the door hushed closed behind him, sealing him in with the only man alive who could make him feel so scared and so desperate and angry all at once.

"Doctor McKay. I was wondering when you would come down here." The voice sent chills down Rodney's back, and he experienced the sudden and overwhelming desire to run. Back away and hide. But he didn't. He couldn't.

"I want to talk, Kolya." Rodney said stiffly, mustering as much confidence and arrogance as he could. But there wasn't much.

Kolya chuckled slowly, and there was a sharp intake of breath as if he were in pain.

Rodney moved so that he could see the other man clearly. He was shocked at what he could see. Kolya sat on the bench in the middle of the cell, one of his arms was in a sling, and he held himself awkwardly, as if his chest pained him. But it was his face, so arrogant and cruel. It was covered in mottled bruises and cuts and it was clear his nose had been broken and reset. One of his eyes was swollen shut and his lips were split and bloodied.

But it wasn't just the beaten appearance, it was the fact the most of the injuries were _new_ that made Rodney feel sick to the stomach. He crowded close to the cell walls, staring at the man who haunted his nightmares.

"Who did this to you?" He asked in a whisper.

Kolya smirked at him, but said nothing.

Rodney frowned in puzzlement. "Alright, then, why did do this?"

"This?"

"_Everything_. Why did you…." He broke off, unable to continue, and looked away.

"I don't have to explain myself to you, Doctor McKay, because I think you already know the answer." Kolya replied.

Rodney peered at him. He wanted to get closer, to stare into Kolya's eyes as he spoke to him, he wanted to see if the man was telling him the truth or pulling his leg.

"You don't do anything without ulterior motive." He mumbled. Rodney looked at the doors behind him guiltily, before moving forward to deactivate the shielding that stopped Kolya from leaving the cell. He crept toward the opening. Kolya was watching him curiously, as one might a bug through a microscope.

"No, I don't."

"Then…why did you have to bring me down there? You could have had any one of your men do what you asked of me. But you didn't. You kidnapped me while I was….under the weather, in a moment of weakness. Why did you do it?"

And Kolya smirked at him, "Because the way to cripple Atlantis is to take away the things that make it strong. To pull out the pieces that keep it working so that, when I make my move, nothing stands in my way."

It overwhelmed Rodney then, the urge to run. And he stumbled back a step, and then another. His back slammed against the door. He was breathing harshly, and it was a surprise he hadn't passed out yet. He waved a hand over the door panel without taking his eyes from Kolya, and when it opened. He ran.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the guards quickly enter the cell room, but he turned the corner before he could see more.

His chest was aching something fierce, like someone was driving pins through his skin and into his ribs.

His quarters were dark when he arrived, sinking to his backside as soon as the door closed behind him and fighting the desire to curl up into a ball and cry his eyes out. But he couldn't, because he hadn't so far, and he wouldn't break down.

On his desk sat the bottle of pills Carson has prescribed, he took three, spilling water down his front as he hastily swallowed them, and tried not to vomit them back up.

He crawled to his bed and all but passed out before he even laid his head on the pillow.

~OO~

Sheppard paced his quarters, trying to process the information previously muttered to him over the radio.

Kolya had attempted an escape, there had been a struggle, one guard had been killed, the other fatally wounded. Someone had left the force field around the cell deactivated. He was not stupid, he knew what had happened, he was just working up the strength to go and tell Rodney.

A few minutes later he straightened, and headed out his room and down the corridor to Rodney's, the door swung open at a thought.

He had to squint to see anything, and ordered the lights to turn on, revealing a slumbering Rodney hanging over the edge of his bed, drooling on his pillow. It is such an achingly familiar sight, his best friend, asleep but looking as if he wanted to be awake. How many times had he fallen asleep in the labs? In a meeting? At breakfast because he worked all through the night?

And suddenly Sheppard didn't want to tell Rodney about Kolya and dead soldier. He didn't want to ruin the fragile peace that rested delicately over his room.

He stepped forward and dragged the blankets over McKay's sleeping from, smirking as he heard mumbled words, and tip-toed back out. Only to bump into a silent and stoic Ronon. They gazed at each other in understanding.

"He's asleep."

"You didn't tell him." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah." Sheppard whispered, rubbing the back of his neck.

"So," Ronon's blaster spun in his hand, and Sheppard watched him flip it from stun to kill. "We gonna do this?"

Sheppard nodded.

The armory was their first stop, Ronon waiting impatiently while Sheppard decked himself out and pulled on a TAC vest. Teyla met them soon after, taking the gun from Sheppard without a pause and they hurried off to join the search parties.

"What of Rodney, John? What if he finds out?" Teyla asked.

"He's asleep," Sheppard replied soundly, already planning the search parties route silently in his head as they walked. "He'll be dead to the world for a few hours, judging on how he looked when I last saw him."

They continued until they were in the Gate room, Weir was talking with Zelenka and the control room monitors, Chuck by her side. He heard her telling them to get everyone to stay in their quarters until otherwise advised, and was asking Zelenka if he could track Kolya's life sign so they could 'get this over and done with as quickly as possible'.

"Are we shooting to stun, Colonel?" Teyla asked minutes later, and those around them paused, looking expectantly at their leader. Sheppard met their gaze head on.

"Shoot to kill. This guys dangerous."

It was not, perhaps, the only reason he wanted Kolya dead, but it wouldn't have been professional to admit that he wanted this bastard dead and buried because of what he'd done to McKay. Then again, by the look on everyone's faces around him, they didn't think much of their missing man any more than he did

"Spread out, Lorne take your team and head toward the edges of the city, he couldn't have gotten far so maybe you can head him off." Lorne nodded and headed off.

"You do not think he is heading away from the central part of Atlantis." Teyla said knowingly, and her grip on her P-90 shifted, ever so slightly.

Sheppard smiled, he knew it was not a friendly smile.

"Nope."

~OO~

Rodney groaned.

He was still tired, but his stomach was grumbling so loudly it would be impossible to get back to sleep now. He groaned again and forced himself to roll off his bed. He was still wearing his shoes and they clomped heavily to the ground. He stood.

Bones popped and crunched as he stretched and, with the barest of shudders at who might be out there ready to stare at him, he left the relative safety of his room and made his way toward the closest transporter. A part of him thought that Atlantis was eerily silent, even the humming through the walls, felt only by those with the ATA gene, seemed subdued. But another part, occupied mostly by thoughts of pain and secrets and wanting nothing more than to hide, told him he was being paranoid.

He tapped the transporter and appeared, moments later, by the mess hall. But, striding in, he found it void of sound and movement and, well, _life_. It was completely empty. He huffed in annoyance.

He really was hungry. What was he going to do now?

He could go find Sheppard, but he remember quite distinctly what had happened at lunch and disliked the thought of repeating it. He wasn't ready to talk about what had happened, and he wasn't ready for everyone to know he remembered.

Rodney sighed.

He didn't even like thinking about it.

He wandered back through the hallways, choosing to walk the long way rather than take the transporter. He was beginning to worry, he hadn't seen anyone yet, there was no one wandering around or talking in the alcoves. Rodney suspected it was more than coincidence, and began to walk at a trot, rather than an amble. He was headed for the main labs.

Perhaps he could get some work done, Rodney told himself, maybe it would take his mind off everything.

The labs were empty as he hurried past, and then into them. Not even the bleep of a laptop to fill the somehow awkward silence. Rodney didn't like the quiet, it meant he was alone. He didn't like being alone…..

And hour passed, or maybe it was two. Rodney tapped idly at his laptop, which for some reason had been covered in dusk and fingerprints. He went through the Atlantis systems, checking up on them one by one and making sure nothing major had happened while he'd been….gone. Nothing had. Perhaps Atlantis could survive without him.

The thought was a depressing one.

His fingers froze over the keys. What was he doing then? If nothing had gone wrong and everything had been moving along just fine without him, what was he still doing there?

It might have been a vulnerable moment, it was not the best time for such a thought to come to mind, and it cut Rodney deeply. A feeling of worthlessness settled over him and he slowly shut his laptop down and rolled his seat away from the table. He wasn't hungry anymore.

The room spun, but perhaps he imagined it.

Rodney staggered to his feet, his mouth was dry and his stomach was churning unpleasantly. He left the lab as fast as he could, blinking to clear his eyes. He paused once out of the room, he desperately wanted someone to walk by. Sheppard, Teyla, Ronon, anyone. Anyone at all.

As if reading his mind, footsteps echoed over the Lantean floor, reverberated against the walls. Rodney huffed a sigh of relief and turned, already speaking as he did so.

"You know, its about time…."

"Hello, Doctor McKay, I was wondering where you'd gotten to."

And it was hell all over again and he was stuck back in that underground bunker and there was blood and pain and hate.

"Kolya."


	18. The End

**Forever End**

Chapter Eighteen

The End

It's funny, isn't it? That if you repeat the lie enough, you begin to believe it yourself.

When people asked Rodney, "How are you doing?" "Are you in pain?" "Is there anything I can do?"

And he answered the same, because he was tired and worried and couldn't seem to think of anything else.

"I'm Okay."

_I'm Okay._

_I'm Okay._

_I'm Okay._

"No, really, I'm Okay."

And it was such a blatant lie, but it passed so easily from his lips. The smiles were harder, he would work to push his face up, to crinkle his eyes at the corners and bare his teeth. Sometimes, when he was so exhausted he could barely think, he suspected he more sneered than anything else. But no one ever commented on it.

Just as well.

Maybe.

Maybe he wished they would.

Rodney suspected he was an eccedentesiast. Someone who fakes a smile. He was a liar, too.

And as hard as it was to pretend, he kind of preferred to lie than to admit the truth. That he remembered everything, that he could still feel the slow burn of guilt and agony and grief whenever he thought about Ladon. The fear and horror when he thought of Kolya. The regret and shame when he thought of Sheppard.

Protector, enemy, friend. Rodney felt unworthy of all three. For the first time in his life he felt unimportant. Useless.

The world was moving around him, or maybe he was the one moving? Rodney wasn't quiet sure. Pain muffled his thoughts, made it hard to concentrate. He drew in each stuttered breath after another and attempted to ground himself in the situation.

He was walking, staggering, down one of the corridors that lead to the main control room. There was something hard and cold pressed into his back, a gun. And holding the gun, was Kolya.

"I don't understand," He found himself saying. "Why is killing me so important? Why should revenge mean this much to anyone?"

Kolya chuckled dryly. "You are not a man of battle, Doctor McKay, if you do not understand."

And that wasn't really an answer, but Rodney said nothing more. He didn't understand revenge, didn't see the allure of killing someone, couldn't imagine it making him feel any better. He just didn't have it in him.

The 'gate room was not crowded, but the few people manning the controls fell silent and still when Rodney, tailed closely by Kolya, took the stairs and came close. There was no one on Atlantis who didn't know Kolya, who didn't know what he'd done, and so it was no surprise when hands flew to headsets and quiet, sharp words were spoken, almost as one.

"Colonel Sheppard to Control room, immediately."

"Weir, there's a problem."

"Emergency in the 'gate room, assistance required."

Rodney flinched; Kolya was pressing the gun into his back, digging into his already aching muscles. He hunched forward and eyed his own, bare feet.

"You will dial this address and allow Doctor McKay here and myself to go throw, unhurt." Kolya's voice was deadly quiet.

Rodney watched the tech's shift restlessly, indecisive. Chuck's gaze flickered back and forth.

"I can't allow you to harm McKay in any way." He finally said, voice steady.

Rodney opened his mouth to say something, anything, because the pressure at his back disappeared for a moment, there was a loud bang by his ear, deafening him, and he saw Chuck flip backward on his chair, watched him land gracelessly on the floor.

The ringing filled the silence, and then distant shouts and screams, hands twitching toward headsets and fingers quivering in anxiety. Rodney stared at Chuck as the other man pressed already stained hands against his shoulder.

"Do it, now, or I will shoot Doctor McKay." Kolya's voice sounded like a buzzing in his ear.

He shuddered.

People flew, there was the chevrons locking, the strangely quiet whoosh of the wormhole engaging. The crackle of gold as the powerful iris was not removed. And Rodney felt panic seize him, so swiftly that his legs buckled, sent him to the ground. He wavered, knees aching from the fall, eyes fluttering.

He didn't want to go through the Stargate. He didn't want to go anywhere with Kolya.

He didn't wan to die.

When he looked up, Sheppard was standing there, as if he'd appeared out of thin air. Rodney looked back down and clutching his hands to his aching ribs. Could feel that even the slightest pressure against the stitches marching across his skin hurt like hell.

Without the gun at his back, Rodney felt like he could breathe, because the gun was pressed into the back of his head. And being shot in the head was easier than in the back. He would die fast, this way.

And then he was on the ground, staring at his hands from inches away. He didn't remember how he got there, only that he was.

Rodney's head felt funny, light, as if he were full of helium and it was only his sweaty hands anchored into the ground that kept him from floating away.

Hands on his back, dragging him back and away from the strange puddle of red that had been forming between his hands, reaching out toward his fingers. He fell back, and the hands latched onto his arms, holding him in place.

He realized he couldn't hear. There was a static in his ears, spinning in his head. A whirlwind of nothing-ness that was almost deafening. Rodney looked up and blinked. Kolya was there, but so was Sheppard. Their mouths were moving, Sheppard's curled into an angry sneer, his P-90 was trained on the taller man. Kolya has his own gun, Rodney couldn't see his face.

Everything seemed so still and slow.

Rodney drew in a deep breath, but oddly, it still wasn't enough air to fill his lungs. He struggled. He felt empty. Someone was rubbing quick circles over his chest. Their hands were red, left a stain on his clothes. He tried to push the hand away and felt a rumble against his back. Speaking, maybe.

Movement. He looked up in time to see Sheppard stagger back clutching his arm even as he tried to raise his gun again.

He must have fired, because the body behind Rodney jerked violently, curled around Rodney protectively and held him tight.

Rodney was just trying to breathe.

Kolya fell. Just…fell.

One moment he stood. Stood tall and imposing, and the next he was down, landing somewhere by Rodney's feet.

And all he could hear was the static.

People were everywhere. Crowding. Moving. Kicking the gun out of Kolya's lifeless hand and surrounding Sheppard.

The body behind Rodney shifted and moved away and Rodney tipped sideway, unable to keep himself upright. He felt so light and weak and hollow. His cheek slid against the smooth floor. He stared at the space where Kolya must have been, where people swarmed like hungry scavengers to obscure the sight of his body. He could barely believe…..barely comprehend…

Something rolled down his forehead and then his nose, tickled his skin. He reached up with a heavy hand and swiped at it.

The light was dulling, color being sapped, feet moved restlessly and a set of legs and a knee filled his vision. Gentle, familiar hands felt at his neck, at the juncture between jaw and throat, and pressed against his head.

At last the people shifted, slowly, moving through air so thick he could barely drag it in between his lips. Darkness lurked seductively at the corners of his mind, lapping at his consciousness. He could see Kolya, the man's face, the bullet hole and the gore where most of his face used to be.

And his last, coherent thought was,

_Good._

"You really think you're going to get out of here alive, Kolya?" Sheppard felt his teeth ache, he was gritting them so hard.

Kolya bared a snarl at him. "I will kill him if you do not let me through the Stargate, Colonel Sheppard, you know that."

Sheppard looked to Rodney, held by his throat against Kolya, and felt his pulse speed up. He looks like shit. His skin was a sickly pallor and sweat oozed down his face. Even Sheppard could see his body trembling.

"Just let him go, Kolya."

There was a long silence. Broken only by the harsh gasps of Rodney as he struggled to breathe, and the little shuffle as the people around them shifted restlessly. Sheppard curled his hands more securely around his weapon, lifted his shoulders and let out a slow, calm breath.

"No matter what, Kolya, I will shoot you."

And there was nothing to dispute him, Kolya could see it, everyone could see it. For him, there was no escape from this, they wouldn't let him go. Kolya's hands tightened briefly around Rodney's throat, and then he let him go.

Rodney swayed forward, listless, eyes to the ground. He didn't see when Kolya swept his arm back and struck him across the side of the head with his stolen gun. Barely seemed conscious when he collapsed to the ground without a sound, hands splayed out before him to stop his face from hitting the floor.

Blood oozed, dripped, formed a growing puddle.

Distantly, Sheppard was aware of Beckett lurching forward and dragged Rodney out of the way.

Shocked, angry, worried, Sheppard raised his own gun, but Kolya bet him to it. The bullet struck him in the arm, pain flared, hot and bitter, but felt his fingers tighten around the trigger and lifted his gun in time to aim it at Kolya. The sound of a second bullet echoed coldly in through the large room.

~OO~

Three weeks later…

"How's your head."

Rodney looked away, fingers automatically prodding at the stiff mound of bandages wrapped around his face.

"Feels like crap, actually." He said, a little miffed.

Sheppard nodded with a sigh and leaned back, took a long sip of his beer.

"How's your arm?" Rodney asked after a long moment, his own bottle still full and untouched in his hands.

"Pretty good."

"liar." Rodney said snippily.

Sheppard laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, I suppose I am. It actually hurts like hell, but Beckett says I can't have any more painkillers."

"And that's why you dug into your secret supply?" Rodney waggled his bottle, slopped beer over his hand.

Sheppard looked tired, older. There was something about him that made Rodney worry. Or perhaps he was being paranoid. He looked away, to the landscape of water that reflected their precious city, their home.

The reflection showed them towers of glass and steel, golden stars and silver moons. Each ripple disturbed the image, made it into more of a careless painting than anything else. And Rodney found it eerily pleasant to watch.

"Rodney." Sheppard's voice had gotten serious, low. Unease coiled in the pit of Rodney's stomach.

"Yeah?"

And here it was.

Rodney didn't want him to ask. Didn't want him to question.

"Do you remember? Is there anything that you remember?"

And maybe Rodney just didn't want to lie anymore.

But then, if you say the lie enough, even you begin to believe it, and Rodney so badly wanted to believe it.

"No, I don't remember."

_No, I don't remember_

_No, I don't_

_No_

"I don't remember anything."

* * *

I think you get to a point when writing a fic where you want to just stop, because you worry that you're going to disapoint your readers. Because you think your writing isn't good enough, that the plot is weak and about to fall apart.

And it's only by reading each and every review left by such wonderful people that has dragged me from my cave and forced me to write the last chapter, as short, and perhaps lacking as it is.

But, and even though I've taken more than a year to complete this story, I've loved every minute of it. I love hearing what people have to say, to their ideas for improvement or simply getting to know them. It's been unreal.

Thank you all for sticking with me and I hope to hear from you again!

- Alerix Slynn


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